Skylines and Wheatfields
by SallyJetson
Summary: This is the end... can you believe it? This is my version of what is going on in between the episodes with Danny and Lindsay.
1. The Bomb

Authors Note: My first fanfic ever. I have many more chapters waiting in the wings already written so if you like this one let me know. Spoilers for "Not What It Looks Like"

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. Everything else however is mine.

The Bomb

Lindsay leaned her head back against the headrest of the SUV. Her head pounded, her ears rang and even though she had downed a bottle of water at the scene the inside of her nose and throat were still dry and raw from the smoke

_It had all happened so fast she had barely had time to think, she just reacted… look Mosi square in the eyes, drop the bag with flash grenade in it, dodge under the gun aimed at her head and drag the hostage to the ground as the flash grenade ignites. _

_BANG!_

_Then she had heard the SWAT team rushing in and Flack and Stella's voices as they shouted "On the wall" and "Gun" and "Got it". She was just beginning to get to her feet when the dizziness hit her in a wave, and she heard Danny's voice, "Lindsay"… "Lindsay". She croaked out, "Danny" and he was pulling her to her feet, checking her over with his hands to make sure she was okay and pulling her to his chest. As he embraced her she felt his chin rest against her forehead as he murmured "It's okay." She pulled back from him and could see the relief in his eyes and he could see the pure disbelief in hers. He pulled her back to his chest and she dug her fingers into his upper arms still trying to fathom what had actually gone down._

_She had been so grateful for his arm around her as she had walked out of the building. With her heart beating like a wild captive bird and her legs as weak as jelly she would have collapsed otherwise. He took her over to the ambulance and stayed close, watching, as the EMT checked her over. She couldn't read his expression but he was very quiet which was unusual for him. Stella and Flack had come over and had asked "How are you doing?" and "Gutsy move… saved that girl's life." Stella had looked over at Danny and said, "Danny take her home after this okay." Danny had nodded, "Sure Stel."_

Now she was in the SUV hoping that the aspirin would begin to kick in soon because the adrenaline rush was receding and she was beginning to feel every ache and pain in her body from her dive to the floor. Her shoulder hurt particularly because she was sure she had wrenched it when she had pulled the hostage down to the ground with her.

Oh that poor girl with her eyes and mouth taped and blood running down her neck. She couldn't begin to imagine that girl's terror. It brought back memories of her CSI days in Bozeman, Montana. '_Oh God Laurel, why couldn't I have saved you like I saved that girl today?_' A random tear slid down her cheek and the lump in her throat rose.

"Hey, Montana are you okay?" Danny asked softly as he stole a quick glance at her profile.

She didn't even look at him as she quickly replied "Yeah, yeah, I'm just a little emotional from the whole episode."

"Hang tight, we'll be to your building soon."

She took in his profile grateful that he had to concentrate on the afternoon Manhattan traffic. This was a side of Danny she had never seen before. Quiet, concerned, in fact downright worried. Usually he was quite playful, gregarious and somewhat flirty with her, even calling her 'Montana', a nickname coined by him on her first day in New York. Other times he was serious particularly when they were working on a case together. He would always take the time to explain procedures and conclusions to her, often talking through his cases with her, always listening intently when she bounced ideas and theories off him. They worked well together and she had learned much from him since coming to New York City a year ago but she often thought there was more to Danny than meets the eye. His actions didn't always match up to the talk about him or least that she could see.

She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't attracted to him but she didn't let it go much beyond the occasional thought because, well, he was a coworker and a damn good one at that and then there was the talk and finally she had to stay focused on why she had come to work in the New York City Crime Lab, to be around the best and learn from the best so she could...

"Parking spot!" Danny exclaimed interrupting her thoughts.


	2. Lindsay's Apartment

Authors Note: Here is chapter 2 from my first fanfic ever. Many warm and delicious D/L moments. I have many more chapters waiting in the wings already written so if you like this one let me know. Spoilers for "Not What It Looks Like"

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Lindsay's Apartment

Lindsay gingerly stepped out of the SUV and Danny closed the door behind her.

"You know Danny, I can get it from here," as she approached the front door of her building and rummaged through her bag for her keys. When her hand shook as she tried to get the key in the door he took them gently from her and spoke for the first time since they had gotten out of the SUV.

"You know Montana, I better walk you up, you seem a little jittery," his accent thick again and his tone playful. She smiled to herself. This was the Danny who could always lighten the mood and keep her mind off her 'dark thoughts' as she called them. So many times she had looked forward to work more than usual because he was going to be there to tease her and joke with her, say some outlandish thing to make her smile to herself. He really did brighten her day and more often than not she could hold her own with him in her quiet Midwestern manner. Secretly she thought he kind of enjoyed it, at least she hoped he did; she knew she did.

He unlocked the apartment door and held it open while she ducked under his arm and he followed her in. She heard him drop the keys on the table by the door. She threw her jacket and purse over a chair and collapsed on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" he said looking intently at her.

"Water from the fridge," she said remembering her parched throat.

She heard the refrigerator door open and close and then cabinet doors opening and closing.

"Messer, what are you doing in there?" He was just being downright nosey and she was going to call him on it.

"Montana, where is your food? I'm hungry." Danny groaned

"Hello Danny… New York City… Takeout capital of the U.S.," she retorted back.

Danny chuckled to himself, the woman did have a point but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun with her, you know lighten the mood a bit; keep her thoughts off the events of the days. It was after all one of his favorite pastimes these days – riling her up.

"Montana, how does that work?" he asked as he handed her the bottle of water and sat on the coffee table across the couch from her.

"I mean a woman who's stellar in the lab but can't cook in the kitchen," as he trained one eye on her and took a swig from his water bottle.

"Messer, I can cook as well as the next gal or guy," she said emphasizing guy and looking pointedly at him, "but I'm busy and I don't like to cook for one person anyhow."

He could hear the strain in her voice and realized she was probably beat so he halted it there and just said, "Well why don't you hop into the shower and I'll get us some takeout."

"Okay, the menus are on the counter by the fridge."

"Do you have any preferences?"

"Surprise me," she called over her shoulder as she took herself off to the bathroom.

"Ooookaaaay." Danny chuckled to himself.

As he looked at the menus on the fridge, nothing appealed to him tonight except Italian and she didn't have a menu for that. _What is wrong with this woman – no Italian takeout menu? _He'd have to remedy this. He scribbled a quick note, grabbed her keys, locked up and headed out.


	3. The Dinner

Authors Note: I love reading your reviews almost as much as I love writing this stuff. So here is more D/L warm fuzzies. I changed the rating to T. Not sure about the ratings. Please let me know if I got it wrong. Spoilers for "Not What It Looks Like"

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Dinner

He had meant to scout out a good Italian place and bring something back but when he passed the corner market, he stepped in and did a little shopping instead. After all the woman had no food in her apartment. She was in dire need of some staples.

When he arrived back at the apartment about an hour later, it was eerily quite.

"Lindsay?" he called hesitantly and softly. He didn't want to spook her. No answer. Now he was beginning to worry. He walked swiftly across to the bathroom and pushed open the door. Towel on the floor, shower curtain pushed aside and steam on the bathroom mirror, his detective trained eye missed nothing, but no Lindsay. He walked over to what must be the door of the bedroom and cracked it opened. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her sprawled across the bed sleeping. Once again his detective eyes missed nothing. Her very damp, wavy hair spread wildly across the pillow while one arm lay across her eyes to block the light from the window. She was wearing a little tank top and pajama shorts that left little to the imagination. He could appreciate the fact that she wore no bra, as she lay on her side from the waist down and her shapely legs were bent at the knee in that sensuous manner that women often pose in when they are trying to seduce a man. Danny slowly closed the door and leaned back against the wall. All this brought his senses to a heightened state and she was only sleeping. _God you are in so much trouble, Messer._

He should have just stocked her cabinets, left a little note saying that he hoped she felt better and he'd see her at work tomorrow. But no he stayed. That's how it is when someone fascinates you so much that you go against your better judgment. Danny pondered this as he put away the groceries and fixed the angel hair pasta with a touch of olive oil, chopped garlic, fresh basil and a hint of pepper. Certainly he wasn't a gourmet chef but he could cook a decent meal when the occasion warranted it. _What was the occasion here?_ When he cooked for women before, it was because he wanted to get them into bed. Did he want to get Lindsay into bed… no… yes… no. When she went undercover today he wanted to stop her, keep her safe, and protect her. He didn't want her to die like Aiden or be severely hurt like Louie. Then when he had found her amidst the bomb ruins after the takedown he had wanted to hold her and never let her go. But tonight when he saw her sleeping, he had wanted her as a man wants a woman pure and simple. He had never met a woman that had made him feel so many different things at once, so many things that no woman had ever made him feel before.

"Mmmm, something smells good," Lindsay broke into his thoughts.

He noticed, much to his dismay, that she had covered her scant outfit of earlier. But the little zip-up top that hit her mid-rift and yoga pants that hugged the curve of her rear-end did not leave much more to his imagination. Yes, Montana was definitely one good-looking woman.

"Here you gotta taste this," he said as he held a forkful of pasta up to her mouth.

"Oh, really delicious. Did you get the takeout menu for this place?" she asked as she closed her eyes and savored the pasta.

"That is pasta Messer style," he said quite proudly.

"Noooo," she said quite surprised and her hand went to her mouth as her eyes widened.

He smirked that Messer trademark smile that made her breath catch every time as he said, "You said to surprise you."

"Well I am surprised and you can cook for me anytime," she quipped.

"You promise," he said softly as he held her deep brown eyes with his intense blue ones and all of sudden she became confused about what was passing between them and she ducked her head and blushed as she went into the kitchen to get the plates.

_Easy Messer. She ain't like the neighborhood girls_.

Dinner passed so quickly and easily, neither noticed the time until Lindsay's cell phone rang. She recognized Mac's number and answered quickly.

"Hi Mac"

"Just fine," she said as she nodded her head.

"Thanks, but I can be in tomorrow no problem," her brow furrowed as she said this.

"Is that really necessary?" she frowned deeply as she said this

"Yeah he did," she said as she glanced at Danny. "You want to speak with him? He's right here."

"Okay, night Mac" and she clicked her phone shut.

Danny noted that the frown had not completely left her face.

"Everything okay, Montana?" he prodded gently.

"Mac said to take tomorrow off but when I do come back the day after he'll have an appointment set up for me with the departmental shrink."

"You don't gotta worry about that. Merely routine," Danny assured her.

She sat deep in thought for another few seconds before she turned to him with a smile and said, "He did say to tell you not to stay out too late, because you do have work tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and blew dramatically through his lips, "Why do the chicks get all the breaks?"

"Because when you're the hero…, "she trailed off quite taken aback at her own cockiness.

Danny put his forearms on the table and leaned his face close to hers. His intense blues eyes mesmerized her. "You have a right to be proud, Montana. Don't feel bad about that. That was one gutsy move you did today but I gotta tell you, my heart was in my throat when I was listening and heard that you'd been made… I dunno, I didn't want you to be another Flack or even Aiden," his voice cracked a tad when he said Aiden's name and that was not lost on Lindsay.

"I know Danny," she said softly as she squeezed one of his hands comfortingly. "I just had to help that girl." He nodded mutely and looked at her hand over his.

"I better go," he said huskily as he pulled his hand away, pushed back his chair and stood up.

Lindsay glanced quickly at the clock. She licked her lips nervously. She didn't want him to leave. It was so hard at night when the dark thoughts returned and the nightmares came. She stood up quickly.

"Look Messer, it has been a long day, it's late and there is no sense in you going back to your apartment now. You need sleep as much as I do and I owe you. Why don't you just crash here," she immediately noticed that Messer glimmer come back into his eye when she said that last sentence and she quickly held up her palm as if to stop his thoughts and then pointed to the couch.

"On the couch of course."

"Deal."

"Here are pillows and blankets and an alarm clock," she said as she came back from her bedroom with an armful of stuff. "Help yourself to the bathroom in the morning but just be quiet about it. I intend on taking full advantage of my day off." she added playfully as she headed off to her room.

"What no goodnight kiss," Danny mocked her.

She waved a hand to him without turning around and replied sweetly, "Sweet Dreams, Messer."

That's okay he thought as he watched her rear-end sway off to the bedroom. This was an indeed a good start he told himself, to what he wasn't sure but he was definitely willing to stick around at least a little while longer and find out.

Lindsay clicked her bedroom door shut quietly and leaned against it. _What was she doing?_ _The infamous Danny Messer was spending the night at her apartment. Was she nuts? God she wanted him!_


	4. The Nightmare

Authors Note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Keep 'em coming. I love writing this stuff.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Nightmare

_She was back in the apartment with the diamond dealer. He was pointing the gun at her and shouting, "Take it off." Her hands moved shakily over to Dana's eyes and mouth to remove the tape but when she did it wasn't Dana! The eyes stared at her blankly and the lips were dried and cracked. It was Laurel's face. The lips moved ever so slightly, "Why didn't you help me?" she whispered._

"Laurel, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I am so sorry I couldn't save you," Lindsay screamed out into the darkness sitting straight up in bed. Danny was there in an instant gathering her into his strong arms as he sat down on the edge of her bed. She sobbed uncontrollably into his chest. All the emotions of the previous day and her previous life in Bozeman washed over her in waves.

"It's okay, just let it all out." He murmured quietly into her hair. When her sobbing subsided he continued to hold her, one arm around her upper back, the other hand on the back of head cradling her gently against his chest.

Finally he said, "You good?" She just nodded her head.

"Stay with me please," she pleaded into his chest. She hadn't even planned to say it but it voiced her innermost need not to be alone. And even though she had been in New York for a year already, it was at times still a very lonely place for her.

He didn't reply but instead picked her up gently. Holding her with one arm handily, he pulled the covers back with the other and laid her gently on the other side of the bed facing away from him. She felt the bed sag from his weight as he laid the length of his lithe body along her back and pulled up the covers. His head rested on the pillow above her head and he placed his hand gently on the curve of her waist. She pulled that hand across her body to rest against her stomach and then laced her fingers through his. She snuggled back into him, her rear-end nestled into his groin. He didn't know if she did it on purpose or not but he felt the heat surge through his body anyway. He was keenly aware of the tank top and pajama shorts just barely covering her body. The material was so thin he could feel the heat of her body melding with his own. This would be the first time in the history of Danny Messer's adult life that he would lay with a woman in bed all night without having sex with her. He knew this because he felt her pain and he knew her pain because it was his pain too. All the pain he had felt in losing Aiden, watching Louie slip through his life in a coma, and seeing Flack with a hole blown in his gut mingled with her pain. To have someone to hold onto when you felt so much pain gave him the most peaceful feeling in the world. A peace he had never known. And he slept.

When he awoke the light was just beginning to filter through the blinds. He glanced over at Lindsay and she was sleeping peacefully. No hint of the trauma of yesterday or the nightmare shown in her face. She faced him and one arm was draped across his chest. He wanted to stay with her, nuzzle into her neck and take in the fresh springy scent of her hair, wrap his arms around her waist and…. _God what was he doing to himself?_

He slipped out from under her arm without waking her, slipped into his clothes from yesterday, turned off the alarm that had yet to ring and scribbled a quick note. He found a spare set of keys marked 'Spare' on the table by the door. He smiled. Leave it to Lindsay to be so thorough. Clicking the door shut behind him, he locked up and headed out into the early morning light. A quick drive over to his apartment to catch a shower and put on fresh clothes would clear his senses.


	5. The Conflict

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Conflict

Lindsay awoke with light filtering through the blinds into her eyes. Judging from the amount of light in her room it must be late in the morning she thought. Peeking up at the clock she read 11:00. She sighed, stretched and turned over into the pillow pulling the covers over her head. The aroma that hit her nose was all Danny Messer. _Oh that's right… last night… the nightmare._ Her body heated up just thinking of Danny spooned up to her. She had to admit it was a great feeling and she let her mind wander a bit, thinking of his strong arms, his lean body and those long fingers intertwined with hers.

BRRRING!

The cell phone brought her back to reality and she suddenly had butterflies in her stomach at the thought that it might be him calling to check on her. She grabbed the phone and checked caller id quickly. It was Mac.

"Hello," Lindsay said into the phone.

"I'm feeling fine. I actually just woke up."

"I plan to."

"Okay, at 9 tomorrow. I'll be there."

She sighed as she hung up the phone. That had been Mac calling to tell her that her appointment with the shrink was set for 9 tomorrow.

She lay back down stretched her arms above her and let the cell phone slide out of her hand and onto the pillow. She was going to enjoy today. After one more stretch she hopped out of bed and padded into the kitchen to make some coffee. Danny had left her a note.

_M-_

_Hope you slept well. I know I did. Will call you later._

_D-_

_P.S. Enjoy your day off, you deserve it._

She loved the way he short-handed their names, and even though it was a very short note it had an intimate feel to it. '_Hope you slept well. I know I did._' Those two sentences gave her a warm cozy feeling. Then she shook herself. _You know Linds, he could have been just seeing a friend through a trying time. _Maybe so but she was going to indulge herself a bit. She didn't want to ruin her day off.

The next several hours passed quickly as she showered, dressed, ate breakfast, paid bills, and did some much-needed wash. When she looked up it was 3:00. Danny still hadn't called and her dreamy mood began to dip a bit. So what, she'd go out for a run in the park. She loved going to Central Park. It was the only place in Manhattan that she could go and feel somewhat in the country. In Central Park if you looked at the sky at just the right angle all you could see were tree tops and sky, no skyscrapers. It had the feel of Montana and sometimes she just needed that bit of home.

After a good run through the park, she meandered around just enjoying the day. She reached for her cell to check the time but it wasn't on the waistband of her shorts. _Damn!_ She needed that phone; she took all her calls on it. In fact she was thinking of getting rid her home phone because she never used it. She sighed and began retracing her steps. She was a detective after all. She should be able to track it down. _Great Lindsay, setting yourself up to work on your day off, Ugh!_ When she had completely retraced her steps and still no cell phone she turned towards home. The shadows were beginning to deepen and her stomach was rumbling. Her only hope now was that it had fallen off in her apartment. In fact she honestly couldn't remember clipping it to her waistband. She had been so distracted all day with thoughts of the takedown yesterday, Danny and last night that she couldn't be sure she had clipped it on at all. Her pace quickened towards home. Hopefully it was back at the apartment and there was a message from Danny on it.

She bounded up the steps in her building but stopped short when she reached the door to her apartment. It was ajar! The door showed no signs of damage so whoever was in there had either picked the lock or used a key. Her mind raced. No one had a key to her apartment except the super. But she knew of no scheduled maintenance. Her breathing quickened and her heart pounded. _What to do, what to do_. She had no gun and no phone with her. She could go to a neighbors and call for help but if whoever was in there was still in there, she didn't want to give them the chance to get away. She knew it was foolish but she stepped up the door anyway to look through the crack.

Suddenly the door was flung open; someone grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her inside. Two strong arms held her in a vise like grip and she started to struggle until a familiar face came into focus.

"Danny," she said faintly "what are you doing in…

"Do you realize you could be dead right now?" he spat out. His eyes were narrowed and there was a grim set about his mouth.

His sharp tone set her on edge so she spat back at him, "The door was not mangled so I figured it was someone I knew or …."

"In this city Lindsay there is no such thing as harmless. If you're going to live here you have to understand that or you could end up like the victims we see day in and day out."

Her good mood shattered now and her anger mounting, she struggled to get out of his hold and as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he released her. He slammed his hand on the door right behind her head and it shut with a loud crack.

"Danny you don't have baby-sit me. I'm a grown woman and I know how to take care of myself," she told him heatedly.

"Well, Montana, that wasn't a very good example of handling yourself just now. And believe me I know you are a grown woman." He placed his other hand on the door behind her and took a step closer to her. She was essentially blocked in and the look on his face had changed from anger to something else. She wasn't quite sure what but when his face drew closer she knew he was going to kiss her. And that made her mad! How dare he belittle and yell at her and then turn around and think he could kiss her. As his lips made contact with hers she started beating her fists against his chest but he closed the distance between them quickly and pinned her forearms against his chest. She continued the struggle with her body but he only pressed his lean body along the soft contours of her body making movement impossible. When his kiss became less ferocious and more exploratory, a tingling started in the pit of her stomach and moved lower down her body. Her mouth responded of its own accord and she let out a little moan when he left her lips to trail light kisses over to her ear. She could feel his warm breath and the scent of him was making her lightheaded.

"Gotcha Montana!" he whispered into her ear.

"What!" she shouted as she pushed against his chest with all her strength. He stumbled backward and the look of surprise on his face did not quell her anger in the least."

"What the hell do you mean Gotcha!"

_Shit Messer, this was completely the wrong time to be a smart-ass. _"Look I was just trying to say that you couldn't stay mad at me when…" replied Danny as he licked his lips nervously.

"When what? When you're playing me? Are you playing me Messer?" she said as she stepped closer to him.

"No Lindsay…. NO! What would make you think something like that anyway?"

"Because- you- are- a- player- Danny- Messer-!" Each word was punctuated by finger poke into his chest.

"Ouch Lindsay, you don't have to get physical" he said rubbing his chest. "But okay I'll bite." He crossed his arms over his chest, stuck his bottom lip out momentarily as he shrugged his shoulders and bobbed his head from side to side like a mob boss.

"What is a player?" This was an interesting twist on things. He wanted see where she was going with this. And with her chest heaving, her checks flushed and her eyes flashing he could stand to see her in this state a little while longer. _God she was hot when she was angry!_

Lindsay was rolling full steam ahead with this one. "A player is someone with a huge ego, who flirts incessantly with the opposite sex and gets around." She said each word distinctly as if he were hard of hearing.

"Hmmm…" he said as he rubbed his chin while looking at the ceiling thoughtfully and rocking back on heels.

"Sounds like you just described yourself."

"What?" she sputtered.

"Well let's see, big ego. You sailed in here on the first day with an attitude bigger than the Montana sky, raring to outdo me in the lab and you haven't let up since then."

"You deserved it Messer after that trick you played on me, making me call Mac 'sir' my very first day here. And as far as being competitive in the lab, I'm just thorough and if that makes you feel inadequate then that's your problem," she fired back.

"How about that flirting? Promising me drinks to carry you across crime scene, inviting me out for drinks just so you can show me you know Mac better, asking me if anonymous phone calls turned me on – I could go on" he retorted.

Her face grew hotter but she wasn't pulling back now. "How about all the women?"

His eyes narrowed. Sure he liked women but he'd certainly not been with many lately, not since… since… well not since Lindsay had come around.

"Do you see women hanging around me at the lab, calling me on the phone, asking me out on the street? Really Monroe where are these women?"

"Well I hear the talk," she said starting to lose a little of her steam.

"The talk, oh yeah the talk," he said with a chuckle in his voice. Then with a bit more seriousness in his voice, he said, "Maybe if you took me up on my offers of lunch or bothered to hang around with me after work you'd see it a little differently." "By the way I hear the talk about you," he said slyly.

"What talk?" she replied defensively, the flush suffusing her face.

"That you dance around the issues and you are a tease. Yup that is what all the guys are saying about you." He had added that last line not to intentionally hurt her but to make her think.

That was just cruel. The tears stung the back of her eyes and threatened to spill over. She tried to keep her voice steady but it quivered a bit as she said, "Danny, how can you believe stuff like that. You know I'm not like that. You work with me every day. Do you really believe talk like that?" That last sentence came out as a whisper.

He could tell he had hit his mark. "Do you?" he said quietly and sincerely.

She looked at the ceiling momentarily to keep the tears from escaping. She had been rotten to him just now just because he had made her feel foolish. He was right about her needing to be more careful in the city. And how many times had she said to herself that the talk about him didn't quite describe the man she worked with every day.

She looked at him and said firmly, "No I don't."

A big smile spread across his face and she thought she was going to die on the spot. He took two quick steps to close the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. Then he pulled back, looking into her eyes and said with a twinkle in his eyes, "And tell me Montana, would a player lie in bed next to you all night and not lay a hand on you."

Her face flushed at the mention of the previous night but she couldn't help quipping, "Well technically you did have a hand on me."

"Montana," he growled playfully as she ducked out of his arms and into the kitchen.

"Why don't you stay for dinner," she called over her shoulder. "I'm cooking."

"You're damn right, you are," he said under his breath as he turned to watch her walk into the kitchen.


	6. Eggs Montana Style

Authors Note: I want to send a special thank you to my proofreader, editor and creative consultant, D.D. Big Hug

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Eggs Montana Style

Danny reached around Lindsay to grab a beer out of the fridge as she pulled ingredients out and set them on the counter. She felt him brush against her and her face heated. _God you're such a lightweight, Lindsay_.

"Do you want a beer?" he inquired.

"No thanks but I'll take some wine. It is sitting on the counter right there. Glasses above it in the cabinet," she motioned in the general direction of the wine.

He poured her a glass and when he turned around she had a huge frying pan in her hands.

"What the hell is that? That looks like you could do some serious damage to someone's noggin."

She smiled as she turned the frying pan over and over in her hands as if seeing it in a new light. "It is actually my grandmother's cast iron skillet, but with the right angle and right amount of force, you could clock someone real good with this," she said appreciatively of the skillet as she took a practice swing with it in midair.

"Easy Montana, just put it down nice it easy on the stove and no one will get hurt," he said in his best suspect negotiating voice.

She laughed right out loud and set the skillet on the stove. She took the glass of wine from him and took a big gulp. He cocked an eyebrow at her and smirked. She smirked back.

"Alright," he said, "don't get yourself drunk before you've had time to fix my dinner."

"Spoken like a true man," she grinned and turned to the counter to begin the dinner preparations.

_That's me Montana, 100 red blooded male_. _Check you out_. And he took in her appearance like any red blooded male would in this situation. She wore her hair pulled back in a sassy little pony tail but little tendrils had escaped and were curling seductively against her neck. Her blue tank top clung revealingly to her body from her perspiration and her black fitted running shorts hugged her rear-end like a glove. She was a petite woman but very well-toned he noted as he ran his eyes down her legs. He thought about teasing her a bit about her attire just so he could see her blush and get her a little riled but decided against it because that would probably send her scrambling to put on more clothes and frankly he liked the view just as it was.

She could feel his eyes on her and to help calm herself she said as casually as she could muster, "Messer, what were you doing in my apartment earlier and how did you get in?"

Since she had her back to him, he crossed the little kitchen to lean against the counter next to her and said, "I came to see what was up?"

"Up?" she looked at him quizzically.

"Yeah, I tried to call ya for 2 hours straight and ya didn't pick up. That's not like you so I figured I'd swing by on my way home and check on ya."

She focused on her dinner preparations again and smiled to herself.

"But how did you get in? Surely you didn't pick my locks," she said in mock horror.

"These," he said as he pulled her spare keys out of his pocket and laid them on the counter.

"Oh"

"Why didn't ya pick up when I called?"

"Oh, I think I lost my cell phone when I went for a run. I spent two hours retracing my steps and I still didn't find it. In fact I can't really remember if I clipped it on before I left the apartment or not."

"Well let me call it and see if it's here." Danny pulled out his cell phone and punched a button.

In a second they heard a muffled ring from the bedroom. While Lindsay finished dinner preparations, Danny retrieved the cell phone.

"Mystery solved, Miss Monroe," as he placed the cell phone on the counter.

"Whew that's a relief. That would have been a truck-load of inconvenience having to replace the phone and transferring all that data. Thanks, Danny, my life is in that phone," she smiled at him. "Come on its time to eat,"

As they sat down to two heaping plates of scrambled eggs and toast, Danny remarked, "Sure does smell good but what is this?" pointing at the glass of milk.

"Milk, Danny."

"I haven't drunk milk since I was a kid,' he said raising his eyebrows.

"Well you have to drink milk with breakfast," she replied with a smile. "It's a given."

"I'll just stick to my beer," he said as he set it on the table next to the glass of milk. "And technically it's not breakfast time."

"Well if you want to argue on technicalities, this is breakfast food and you drink milk with breakfast food," she said as she picked up his beer and set it at the other end of the table out of his reach.

"Yeah but it is supper time and I drink beer at supper," he said with a faint whine.

"Are you arguing with me Messer? Because if you are…"

"No, no, no," he replied with a sigh remembering the finger pokes earlier. He knew better than to argue with a woman who had a fork and a knife in her hand.

He took a bite of the eggs and rolled his eyes skyward. "These are really good. What did you put in them?"

"Well, I had to improvise. I was going to make eggs Montana style."

"Would that be the state or the person?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

She smiled and her heart fluttered at his casual reference to the nickname he had given her but she took a deep breath and continued, "The person. So I had to improvise because some _Italian_ stocked my fridge," as she looked pointedly at him, "and I didn't have the right ingredients."

"What would those be?"

"You know peppered bacon, yellow onions, sharp cheddar cheese and vine-ripened tomatoes." She took a bite. "Yeah, I like them," she nodded in agreement. "I'll have to call them Eggs Italiano you know because of the prosciutto, provolone cheese, shallots and sun dried tomatoes."

"Actually you'll have to call them Eggs a la Messer."

"Oh no, no, no. You can't take credit for this. I put this delectable dish together," she said shaking her head emphatically.

"Yeah, but the genius is in the ingredients and I bought those," he smirked back at her.

"But anyone knows that ingredients are just that. It isn't until you put them all together that it becomes something more. I mean words are just words until someone strings them together in meaningful way, then they become poetry, a gripping play or a great work of literature or… or… when a painter puts paint to canvas."

He loved it when she became animated. Her eyes sparkled, her checks glowed, her hands gestured and her face became so expressive. He didn't see it often enough in the lab where she was always so serious.

"Danny, are you listening to me?" she asked earnestly.

"What… yeah, yeah, painter, paint" he replied faintly. Actually he hadn't really been listening at all, just watching her in between shoveling in mouthfuls of eggs. Man they were delicious and he _was_ hungry in more ways than one.

"Are you going to eat those?" he asked pointing at her plate of eggs with his fork.

"Back off Messer," she said as she pointed her fork menacingly at him with a fake grimness in her face. "I ran two miles and walked three today. I'm hungry and I'd fight you to death for these eggs."

"I think I'd win that one," he said dryly.

"Drink your milk, Messer," she said with finality.

The rest of dinner passed in companionable conversation. Lindsay couldn't remember when she had had a more enjoyable time since coming to New York. Finally she said, "You want another beer."

He tipped the empty bottle back thoughtfully and looked at it. "Why not," he said. "I'm off tomorrow."

"Lucky you," she said as took the plates into the kitchen and grabbed another beer. "I have to go for the psych evaluation tomorrow," she said handing him the beer.

He noted her worried expression. "Like I said Montana, you don't gotta worry about that. Merely routine. Unless you are hiding some deep dark secret from your past," he added playfully. He expected at least a chuckle from that but her face clouded over and she turned quickly toward the kitchen. _Dammit Messer._

"Lindsay," he said softly.

"It's okay Danny. I'm just a little tired. Why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room and finish your beer. I'll be right there."

He went into the living room and sat on the couch. He heard water running and dishes clanking. He figured she probably needed a little time to collect herself. He mused: Montana with a secret past. Everyone had stuff in their past but he wondered what hers was.

Lindsay washed the dishes while in deep contemplation. The last time she had had a psych evaluation had been on the job in Bozeman after Laurel had been murdered. Hideous scenes rushed into her consciousness and she pushed them quickly aside. The killer had never been caught and it haunted her every day of her life. That is why she was working in New York to learn all she could so someday she could nail that son-of-a-bitch.

A dull thunk in the living room brought her back to the present. She dried her hands on the towel and walked into the living room. Danny was sound asleep. His head was thrown back, legs up on the coffee table and his hands had loosened their grip on the beer bottle and were lying relaxed by his side. That's what had made the thunk, the beer bottle slipping out of his hand and to the floor. She walked around the couch, picked up the bottle, at least it was empty, and contemplated waking him. He looked very peaceful and she knew it had been rough week. They had pulled 20 hours straight on the diamond heist and even though she had caught up on her sleep today, he had put in another full day. She put the bottle in the kitchen, gathered up the pillow and blanket from last night and brought them back into the living room and laid them on the coffee table. She gently removed his glasses and placed them on the side table. She was sorely tempted to run her fingers along the strong contours of his face. It was so handsome and strong. It really tugged at her heart to see him so peaceful and quiet when he was normally so vibrant and alive. She indulged herself for a few more moments and then locked up, turned out the lights and went to bed. Before she crawled into bed however she took a sleeping pill. She wanted to be well rested for the evaluation tomorrow and even though she would have loved a repeat of last night with Danny in her bed, she didn't need the nightmares messing with her head for tomorrow.


	7. The Encounter

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Encounter

Even though Lindsay had slept through the night, her alarm still rang way too early. She shut it off and slowly stretched her way out of bed. Coffee was the first order of business. She padded quietly into the kitchen so as not to awake Danny and poured her first cup of the day. Thank the lord for whoever had made the automatic coffee maker. She walked into the living room. There was a pile of clothes on the floor by the couch and Danny had sprawled full length along the couch sometime during the night. The blanket barely covered his legs and lower torso. He only wore a wife-beater t-shirt that left his bulging biceps and shoulders in full view. She took a quick sip of her coffee which didn't quell the rising heat in her body. She needed a cold shower and now. Half an hour later, she was ready for work. She paused on her way to the door to take one last look at the sleeping man on couch. _He was so handsome! _This time she didn't fight her urge to touch his face and delicately traced an eyebrow with an index finger. She then ran her finger along the ridge of his nose and was just beginning to trace around those sensuous lips when Danny snaked his arm over the back of the couch, clenched her waist and pulled her deftly over the back of the couch to lie length-wise on top of him.

"Ohhhh, Danny!" she squealed in surprise.

"Was that an invitation, Montana?" he said lazily. One hand was holding her around her upper back while the other slid down to the small of her back. Her skin tingled underneath the warmth of his hands and her breathing quickened.

"Danny, if I don't leave for work in 10 minutes, I'll be late,' she pleaded quietly.

"Well I guess I have some leverage here," he said with a smirk.

"Leverage for what?" she asked suspiciously.

"For getting you to go to dinner with me tonight."

"You mean like a date?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah, why does that surprise you Montana?"

"I don't know. I guess…," her voice just trailed off because she was totally mesmerized by those intense blue eyes.

She wanted to touch him so badly that she put her index finger up to his lips and outlined them gently. He closed his eyes and she could feel his chest rise deeply and then fall as she felt the warm breath of his sigh on her fingertip. Gently she touched her lips to his and his lips yielded and she slowly ran her tongue inside his lips along his teeth. His mouth opened wider to engulf her mouth with his own and she moaned deep in the back of her throat. He suddenly flipped onto his side taking her with him and she was pinned deliciously between him and the couch. His kiss deepened, she responded by putting her arms around his neck and caressing the back of his head. His hair was so short and spiky. She enjoyed the sensation on her fingertips. He ran his hand down her side, gently grazing the side of her breast and coming to rest confidently on her rear-end. _Montana has a first class ass he thought to himself._ When he cupped it she moaned again and slid her knee provocatively between his legs. This time he groaned. If he was going to stop, it had to be now because as much as he wanted her he realized he didn't want their first time to be like this. He wanted to tease her, make her beg for it and then watch her as she moaned his name in complete and utter climax. He wanted to be there with her when she yielded to him and he could know her completely. With only 10 minutes to spare and laying on a cramped couch no less, this would not be possible in the way that he wanted or he felt she would want too.

Gently he pulled his lips from hers and rested his forehead against hers. It took him a moment to catch his breath. When he met her eyes, they were glazed and questioning.

"What?" she said softly her lips rosy and swollen where he had teased and nipped at them.

"Lindsay," he paused and took a deep breath. He didn't have a lot of experience at what he was about to say.

She became more alarmed; he only called her Lindsay when he was serious. "This isn't what you want?" She started to look away in embarrassment but he caught her chin.

"No, no that ain't it at all," he licked his lips nervously. He couldn't remember the last time he had turned down sex when it was this hot and the other party was as willing as he was no matter what the timeframe or the conditions. "This is _exactly_ what I want just not here on the couch in this short amount of time. Look, I just want you to hold this thought until tonight, until I can take you out properly, show you a good time, wine and dine you and make it special. I want to do that for you."

She had enough trouble resisting him when he was just being infuriating but charming Messer, but she absolutely could not resist him when he was being sweet and thoughtful Danny. She put her hands on either side of his face and looked deep into his eyes. He felt her liquid brown eyes melting his heart then she hugged him tightly and whispered into his ear. "Thank you, Danny. I promise it will be special tonight for you too."

He groaned. He had to get her out of here before he changed his mind. He knew what two words would get her moving. "Psych evaluation," he whispered softly into her ear.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed as she scrambled over him. She gathered her stuff hurriedly and backed out of the door. "Spare keys on the counter, lock up and turn off the coffee pot when you leave."

"Got it Montana, I'll call you. Do you have your cell?"

She checked her waistband hurriedly. "Yeah, okay bye." She slammed the door and clattered down the stairs.

Danny flopped back on the pillow and blew through his lips and ran his hands through his hair. _God, he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing here. Before it had been so easy. Meet a girl, mutual attraction, some fun times, no serious plans, when the attraction waned just let it drop. He was never mean or callous with women but he certainly didn't lead them on or make promises either. But Lindsay was different. He enjoyed just being with her, making her laugh, bantering with her. He wanted to take his time with her and see things through her eyes too. He wanted things to be special for her and most of all he just wanted her more than he had wanted any women before._


	8. The Date

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Date

Lindsay decided to treat herself and take a taxi to work. She wanted the quiet time to think even though a taxi wasn't the quietest place it was still quieter than the subway. She hailed one not far from her building and sank back into the seat after giving the driver the address of the crime lab. So much had changed in the last couple of days. Before then, even though she had been extremely attracted to Danny, she didn't think she'd ever have the nerve to actually 'be' with him. He was so handsome, self-assured, vibrant, alive and experienced. She felt so naive and girlish around him most of the time. That's why she subconsciously pushed herself in the lab, to show him that she could be on par with him at least in one area. But after the last two nights, she felt very comfortable and confident about being with him. It may not work out in the end that was always a given at the start of any relationship but she felt they had a good start and she was very excited to see it through. Oh and this morning, her body burned and her stomach fluttered when she recalled how she had kissed him first and he had responded, how his hands felt on her body and the things he said to her. It was all so amazing and exciting. She could hardly wait until tonight. All too soon she was at the crime lab and back into the work world.

The first order of business was the meeting with the departmental psychiatrist. It was as Danny said, merely routine. In fact she wondered if she weren't a little too bright and cheery for someone who had been in a bomb blast just two days ago. But the meeting went well and she was confident when she left that no follow up visits would be required.

She headed to her office to do paperwork until she was called out on a case with Hawkes and Stella. As she and Hawkes processed the double murder which looked on first glance as a murder-suicide she had to focus to keep her mind on the processing. Finally they had gathered all the evidence and headed back to the lab to begin analyses and fingerprinting. While she was waiting on test results she went to the break room to get a quick bite to eat. It was already 2:00. As she was leaving, her cell rang. It was Danny.

"Hello"

"Hey, how are you faring without me there to watch your back?" Danny said with a chuckle.

She laughed. "Is this a trick question, Messer?"

"Just answer the question m'am and no one will get hurt,' he replied in mock seriousness.

"Well in all seriousness, I'm probably faring better than if you were here."

"Ouch that hurts Montana."

"Just being honest. I'd hate to be totally distracted by you and miss a key piece of evidence."

"Hmmm… that's a big compliment coming from you Montana."

"Danny" she paused because she didn't know if she should say what she was thinking but she decided to go for it. "I miss you."

"I know. I miss you too. Hey I'll pick you up at 6:30 for dinner. Wear something nice. We're going to a really nice place."

She giggled. "Okay, I'll see you tonight."

"Bye,"

The day could not pass fast enough. When she finished for the day she sprinted for the subway. Her cell rang as she was going through the turnstile. She answered it quickly without looking at caller id.

"Montana"

"Hey Danny"

"Listen something last minute came up at the hospital with Louie. I have to run by there and sign some paperwork. I hate to ask you this but can you take a taxi and meet me at the restaurant tonight."

"Sure, sure no problem. Give me the address." She scribbled it down quickly. "Got it."

"Okay can't wait to see you."

"Me too."

"Alright bye."

"Bye."

When she arrived at her building, she raced up the stairs to her apartment, ran through it to her bedroom and threw open her closet. _What to wear, what to wear._ Her mind raced as she pulled things out holding them up to herself in the mirror. Finally she decided on a simple black dress that wasn't too tight but hugged her curves intimately. She didn't have much time left. She threw everything else back into closet and slammed the door shut. She didn't know if they were coming to back to her place or going to his but she wanted it to be neat just in case. She showered, dressed, swept her hair up casually on the top of her head leaving a few tendrils to hang seductively around her neck and dabbed on just enough makeup to give herself a little sparkle. A spritz of her favorite perfume and she was ready. She looked at the clock, 6:15. Perfect timing.

BRRRINNGG! Her apartment phone rang and it startled her to actually hear it. Who could it be? She rarely got calls on that phone; it was probably just a solicitor. She didn't have time for that now anyway. She was going on the date of her life with the man of her dreams. BRRRINNGG! It rang again as she gathered her stuff to go. BRRRINNGGG! She was really going to have to get rid of that phone, the ring was annoying. BRRRINNGG! She heard the answering machine pick up as she unlocked the door.

"_Hi, this is Lindsay, leave a message." BEEEEEP!_

Oh shoot, her cell she ran over to the counter to retrieve it.

"_Lind---say,_" a male voice sing-songed softly and menacingly from the answering machine.

Kids playing a prank she thought as she walked to the door. But the next words stopped her dead in her tracks.

"_Do you miss her… you know Laurel_?"

Lindsay's mouth went dry and her heart pounded. Her hand shook as she picked up the phone.

"Who is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?" she demanded angrily into the phone.

"_I'm hurt,"_ the voice replied mockingly. "_I loved her as much as you did you know. It is a shame it had to end so badly."_

No, no, no, this could not be the person who raped, tortured and murdered Laurel. Her mind couldn't fathom that. Now the room spun dizzily. She barely heard the caller's last words as the phone slipped from her hand and everything went black.

"_Sweet Dreams, Lind---say_." CLICK!

When she came to, the apartment was dark. The back of her head ached and when she felt carefully around the area, it was wet and sticky. She stared at the blood on her fingers not quite comprehending what had happened. She remembered the horrible call and she must have knocked the back of her head on the table as she had fainted. She picked herself up from the floor and walked numbly into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face and clean up the back of her head. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes were huge and unseeing.

She walked into the bedroom, opened her closet door and reached far back into it to pull out a shoebox and sank to the floor, her body supported by the doorjamb of the closet. With a shaky breath, she opened it and on top of the pile of pictures, newspaper clippings and other mementos she saw the last picture taken of her and Laurel together. The picture was a close up of her and Laurel, their arms around each other's waists. Laurel was beaming, with good reason too, because it was taken on her wedding day. She was so beautiful in her wedding dress and so radiant with thoughts of her new husband and beginning their new life together. Lindsay had been the maid of honor. She had been so happy for Laurel. It had been a magical day and then it had all been shattered one short week later. Then the tears began to flow. She couldn't stop them. She curled up in a ball on the floor of the bedroom and sobbed. She sobbed like she hadn't sobbed since Laurel's funeral. She couldn't believe the feelings could still be so fresh after 2 whole years. She'd really thought she had put this behind her.

Then she got angry as she thought about the caller. How dare he! He dare he even call and speak to her about Laurel! He hadn't known her at all. The killer had never been apprehended. If this caller was indeed the killer, all he had done was take the life of a woman who was kind, sweet, beautiful and vibrant, but not before he had tortured and raped her. She felt the bile rising in her throat and she ran to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Afterwards she leaned back against the bathtub and wiped a spot of vomit absentmindedly from her good black dress.

_Oh my God, she was supposed to meet Danny!_ What time was it? She ran into the bedroom and looked at the clock. It was 10:30. Why hadn't he called her when she hadn't shown up at the restaurant? Maybe it was because since she hadn't called him and she hadn't shown up that he thought she had had second thoughts. Maybe he had changed his mind about her. What could she possibly say to him that would explain to him what was going on without making him think she was a total basket case. _I think my little sister's murderer called me tonight._ That didn't sound too promising.

BRRINNGG!

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted. Thank goodness it was her cell phone and not her apartment phone. Her heart started beating rapidly, her breath quickened and her palms started to perspire. She wiped her palms nervously on her dress as she picked it up and looked at the caller id. She breathed only a tiny sigh of relief. It was Mac.

"Hello."

"No, I'm awake."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as possible."

She hurriedly changed her clothes to something more appropriate for processing a crime scene, gathered her stuff, locked up and headed off into the night.

-------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note**: Sorry I had to put in the dark stuff but there had to be an awfully good reason why Lindsay would stand Danny up like that. Needless to say I was not happy when the writers of the show did this. They can't dis' Danny like that and make Lindsay look that bad. So now you know why I had to write this fanfic and totally justify Lindsay's behaviour!

But please keep reading and reviewing because the dark stuff only makes the good stuff that much sweeter when you come out on the other end. S.J.


	9. The Let Down

**Author's Note:** I challenged myself to go ahead and follow the events of 'Love Run Cold' and see if I could weave in the back story effectively. So needless to say, this contains spoilers for 'Love Run Cold', however I tried not to repeat the episode because that would be boring. I just hit the highlights enough to keep the story coherent.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Let Down

Lindsay was not relishing processing this crime scene. It wasn't because of the late hour but because more than likely Danny was going to be there. She had nothing to tell him. No way to possibly explain herself to him. She just couldn't bring up her to past to him. It was just too painful and she didn't want to drag him through all of that, particularly after all he had been through with Louie, Aiden and Flack. Maybe it was a good idea that this had been derailed before it had really had gotten started. She was going to have to come to terms with Laurel's death all over again and if the killer was still out there possibly in New York he could strike again. It hadn't been a one time thing with Laurel. No this killer had raped, tortured and murdered six young women in the Bozeman area over a period of 18 months. Then the murders had stopped suddenly after Laurel.

She was shaken out of her thoughts as she arrived at the crime scene. If Danny was coming, he hadn't arrived yet. She started photographing and Danny arrived a few minutes later apologizing to Mac for getting hung up. Mac began the rundown of what they knew so far and so began her day as a New York Crime Scene Investigator.

Twenty hours later she slumped back into her couch in her apartment. It had been a grueling case. In the end the young and beautiful woman on verge of her big career break had been murdered by her jilted boyfriend in a fit of rage. She saw all types of victims but the young girls and children always tormented her the most.

It had been quietly emotional with Danny. He had told her at the crime scene when they had a moment alone that it had been long time since he had been stood up. He was quiet and calm which isn't what she expected. She was grateful for the dim interior of the basement where they were searching for evidence when she had replied that something had come up and she was sorry. Of course he had called her on not calling him but all she could manage to say was how really sorry she was. Then he had asked if they were okay. And with a lump in her throat and she had said yeah, yeah. The whole time she hadn't looked at him and she could tell he was puzzled but she had nothing else to offer.

The rest of the day had passed in a blur. There were a couple of times when he had caught her eyes, questioningly raising his eyebrows at her but she had merely held his gaze for a moment then looked away. He had even tried to get her to go to lunch with him but she had put him off saying that Mac wanted them to wrap up the case.

But the worst had come at end of the day after he and Flack had nailed the suspect in the interrogation room. He had caught up with her in the hallway on the way to the locker room. _Lindsay Monroe, I need to speak to you for a second_ he had said. He had wanted to know what was going on. _What about the chemistry between them. Didn't she feel it too._ And she wanted to acknowledge everything that he was saying but all she could come up was that she _couldn't be in a relationship with him right now_. It had been painful to see him backpedaling saying that he just wanted to _spend some time together, some drinks, dinner, some laughs_. She didn't know if he had said that because she had brought up the 'R' word and it scared him or if what she had said really hurt him. She had to give him something. So she had said how she_ liked him… a lot_. And then she had used the oldest clichés in the book_. I have to work some things on my own. It's not you it's me. I didn't mean for this to happen. We should just do our jobs_. She had held together up to that point but as she had turned and walked away he had said that _if she needed anything to let him know_. In two more seconds she was around the corner and into the women's restroom where she bawled her eyes out in one of the stalls.

A half an hour later when she came out of the restroom, the hallway was clear and she had quickly gathered her stuff from her locker and headed home.


	10. Confusion and Resolution

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Confusion and Resolution

Danny knew that as long as he lived he would never understand women especially one Lindsay Monroe. She had thrown him for a loop when she had stood him up. She had confused him at the crime scene when she said they were okay even though she couldn't even look at him. She had exasperated him when she had turned him down for lunch and she had absolutely broke his heart when she said she didn't want to be in a relationship with him and they should just work together.

Maybe if he had been better at expressing his feelings for her she wouldn't have felt the need to use the old cliché of _it's me, not you_. His comments about not wanting to be in a relationship but just wanting to have some fun were totally inane and so far from the truth. Truth be told he had panicked when she had said she didn't want to be in a relationship with him. What was there left for her to say after he had made comments like that. _Man, Messer, you really screwed this one up._

His only hope was the sincerity in her eyes and the emotion in her voice when she said she _liked him… a lot._ That had to count for something because after the last two nights with her, he couldn't believe that she could just turn off like that. Something intense must have happened in between when he last spoke with her about the change in the dinner plans and the actual dinner date. He remembered the cloud coming over her face when he had made that comment about her secret past and how she had needed time after that before she became Montana again

The only thing he could do at this point was to be there for her like he said he would and hope that he could regain her trust. Because the Montana he had a glimpse of the past two days was well worth it and he vowed to himself he would do whatever it took to get _that_ Montana back.


	11. A Distraught Mother

**Author's Note:** I wove some of the details from Oedipus Hex into this chapter because it brings in more of Lindsay's past. Needless to say this contains spoilers for Oedipus Hex. After this chapter however no more episode rehashes, I promise!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

A Distraught Mother

A week past and Lindsay was managing to put one foot in front of another each and every day. Things were very passive between her and Danny but she knew he was watching her. She tried not to think too much about it. She just went in, did her job to the best of her ability, came home, took a sleeping pill to block the nightmares and slept. One day was just like the next, only the victims and circumstances surrounding their deaths were different. She was essentially numb until one night they were called to the murder of a young girl. The girl was lying face down but her face was turned to the side so Lindsay could see that she was very young, maybe 18 or 19, definitely no more than that. She was supposed to be photographing the victim but all she could do was stare. How sad for this young girl, for her life to be taken so early and tragically. And emotions began to well up in her.

Danny was standing behind her sensing her hesitation. "You okay with this?" he said quietly. He always seem to know these days when she was in angst and in this new quiet way of his, he was supporting her, getting her through. He may not have realized it but she was thankful for it.

"I'm okay," she replied. She choked back her emotions and began photographing.

When they arrived back at the lab, she did not go to the morgue to hear Sid's M.E. report but instead began processing the evidence which was more benign than seeing the body of that young girl all cleaned and processed. They always looked so much younger and more innocent in that state and she just couldn't handle it, not with this victim.

Danny came in to check on her. After discussing her findings thus far, Sid came by and told them that the victim's mother was here. They looked at one another in surprised and Danny asked her to handle it.

"I can't handle distraught mothers, please do this one," she said.

"Why not?" he asked concerned.

"I can do fathers all day long, just not distraught mothers. Please," she pleaded.

"Okay" he said quietly.

At the end of the day she had gone home exhausted but instead of taking her customary sleeping pill she had pulled out the shoebox. She hadn't had it out since the night she had received the anonymous phone call about Laurel. She hadn't heard from the caller since then and no murders of women fitting his M.O. had come through the CSI office so she was beginning to think she had imagined the whole thing. It was probably someone from back home who was playing a prank on her. Anyone who had lived in Bozeman at the time of the murders and read the papers would have enough information to say what they had said to her on the phone the other night. That must have been it. I mean the murders had stopped suddenly after Laurel's death. There was no real explanation for that. So it was probably due to some freak thing or blessing from God depending on how you looked at it. The killer probably had been killed in some freak accident. _Serves him right_! She sighed. She would probably never know who Laurel's killer was or what happened to him or why he did what he did. All she could do now was go forward with the present. Let go of all that baggage.

Even if she had justified the anonymous phone call and the unknown whereabouts of Laurel's killer, the wounds from Laurel's death were still fresh in her mind and heart. That was something she still had to deal with. She began to sift through the contents of the box. There was one particular photo she was looking for. When she found it, she caressed each face in the picture as if they were there with her. "Oh how I wished things could have turned out differently," she whispered to the people in the picture.

"_Mr. and Mrs. Monroe we are very sorry to have tell you this but your daughter, Laurel was murdered last night," the lead detective on the case said to her parents. Lindsay watched as her father's face registered shock and her mother's crumpled. "What?" her mother said in disbelief. "How, where, why?" her father's voice broke on that last word. "I'm very sorry for your loss," the lead detective said sympathetically and then he continued. "If it will be easier for you I'll let Lindsay speak to you about the details while we continue to work the case." They nodded mutely. _

Lindsay recalled that next to finding her younger sister murdered in her own apartment in Bozeman, that that had been absolutely the worst moment in her entire life.

"_Mom, Dad," she began softly. Her own emotions were close to the surface threatening to spill over but she wanted to do this, to offer any comfort she could while they processed through the horrible details of Laurel's death. She would only tell what she thought they needed to know at this point but it was still going to be painful. "The detectives are working around the clock to try to find Laurel's killer. We are very hopeful at this point that we will have the suspect in custody soon." "Where did they find her?" her mother implored tearfully. Lindsay gulped. This was going to be one of the hardest details. "They found her in my apartment." "What!" her dad asked incredulously. "Why wasn't she with Chad?" "Chad had to leave suddenly on business in Denver and she decided to stay with me rather than be alone in their apartment." "I don't understand," her mother said, "Where were you?" "I got called away on a case about 11 pm," she replied. "No, no, no" her mother cried hysterically. "I can't do this, I can't bury my daughter. Lindsay why did you let this happen to her? She had her whole life ahead of her." Her mother continued to sob hysterically and her father hugged her tightly. "I think that is enough for tonight, Lindsay. I'm taking your mother back to the hotel. She needs some rest," her dad said grimly. Lindsay's eyes filled with tears, "Mom, Dad I'm so sorry." She put her hand on her mom's shoulder but her mom violently shrugged it off. Her haggard face looked blankly into Lindsay's as she said, "Don't touch me Lindsay! This is your fault; you should have never left her alone." Lindsay was stricken with disbelief and grief. She could only stare at the retreating backs of her mother and father as they left the interrogation room. Then she sat down at the table, put her head on her arms and cried._

Lindsay thought about her mother. She didn't have much of a relationship with her these days. She tried but her mother seemed to block every attempt Lindsay made to reconnect with her even now two years later. Her mother was stuck in her grief and blamed Lindsay for Laurel's death. Lindsay didn't want to be there, didn't want to become a mere skeleton of the person she once was. She wanted wholeness and happiness in her life. The only way she could do that is if she began to heal herself. Then maybe, just maybe she could talk to distraught mothers, maybe even her own.

She looked back to the box and a Mickey Mouse watch caught her eye. She smiled as she remembered how Laurel had loved that watch. She had saved her allowance for two months one summer and when they had all taken a family vacation to DisneyLand that summer, she had proudly bought the watch. She had only been seven years old. Lindsay turned it over in her hand. It probably still worked. All she had to do was put a new battery in it. Maybe she would do that tomorrow. Maybe it was time she started having some reminders of Laurel around. She kept the watch and the picture of her and Laurel from Laurel's wedding out and placed the rest of the items back in the shoebox. Tomorrow would be a different day.

The next day, Lindsay caught up with Danny in the hallway on the way to the interrogation room to speak to the victim's mother that she had refused to speak with yesterday. A video tape made by the victim for her mother explaining her feelings towards her mother had been recovered from the victim's apartment. As part of the wrap up of the investigation they were going to allow the mother to view it. It had a very positive message and they felt it would help the mother in her healing process.

"I'll take the mother today," she said to Danny as she took the video out of his hand.

"Are you sure?" he was searching her face for any explanation in this change of attitude from yesterday.

"Yeah," she said confidently. "It's part of the job." She didn't know what else to say. Any other reason would have required much more explanation. She just knew it was something she needed to do for herself.

The mother was waiting dejectedly and as she watched the video, her face crumpled and she began to sob. The daughter stated how much she loved her mother and how she was following her dream to do the things her mother had never done. Lindsay put a hand on her shoulder in comfort and the mother gripped it tightly in appreciation. Lindsay bowed her head lost in her own emotion and prayed that some day she would be able to put her hand on her own mother's shoulder and it would be appreciated.


	12. The Watch

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Watch

That night Lindsay called her mom.

"Hi Mom, it's Lindsay," she said when her mother picked up after the third ring.

"_Lindsay… hi," _her mother replied a little in surprise.

"You sound surprised!" she said a little dryly.

"_Well, you rarely call_," her mother replied slightly chiding.

_Okay well this was getting off to a smashing start_.

"Um, well I was just calling to see how you're doing," she tried again.

"_Well, you know it is really busy here with the harvest and all. The men are working around the clock and that keeps me busy getting food to them in the fields_," she said a little tiredly.

"No mom, I mean…. how are _you_ doing?"

There was a pause. "_You know I'm doing okay." Another pause. "Lindsay when are you coming home for a visit? Everyone would love to see you_."

She decided the honest approach would be the best. "I'd love to come home for a visit. I'd love to see everyone but I would really love it if I could spend some time with you… you know, catch up… I think I really need that."

"_Okay Lindsay_," her mother said a little haltingly. "_I would like that too_."

Lindsay swallowed hard, "I'll check my schedule at work and see what I can work out."

"_Good,_" her mother replied rather brightly.

They exchanged a little more small talk and then they hung up.

It wasn't a monumental conversation in Lindsay's mind but it was definitely a start. Sometimes you had to put all your own pain on the back burner for a while to be able to reach out to someone else in their pain. And even though she had lost a sister, her mother had lost a child. She couldn't begin to imagine that kind of pain. That must be the hardest loss to bear. To bury someone who you helped create, love and nurture and who in all rights should have outlived you by many, many years.

That night Lindsay did not take a sleeping pill and there were no nightmares. She knew she was not completely healed but acknowledging her need to deal more directly with Laurel's death, making an effort to reconnect with her mother and letting go of the unknown of Laurel's killer helped her begin her healing process in earnest.

On the way to work the next morning, she picked up the Mickey Mouse watch from the jewelers where she had dropped it the day before. The jeweler had admired it and said it was a classic. If she ever wanted to get rid of it he would take it off her hands in a heartbeat he had said. But be careful he had warned her. The clasp on the band was worn and it could break easily and the watch could be lost. I'll be careful she had tossed over her shoulder as she strapped it on her wrist and headed off to work.

When Danny came into work, Lindsay was sitting at her desk in the office they shared, head bent over a pile of paperwork. As he past by her desk, he could swear he heard her humming. He sat down at his desk, leaned back in his chair and surveyed her, his hands laced around the back of his head.

She heard the squeak of his chair and looked up in surprise. "What's this Messer, No hey how ya doing or Good Morning," she said smilingly. You know, back home, we would call that downright rude," she added teasingly.

Danny popped out of his chair in utter surprise, came around his desk to perch himself on the edge of desk across from where she was working.

"Well, Montana, I'm glad to see you in good spirits. Anything special happen?" he inquired casually. He really was chomping at the bit to see what had brought back her back to some semblance of the Montana he was used to seeing.

"No, not really," she smiled and bent her head back over her paperwork.

When a moment passed and she didn't offer up anymore tidbits about her attitude change he decided to change directions. "That's an interesting watch," he offered as he glanced at the Mickey Mouse watch on her wrist.

She glanced quickly at him and then back down at the watch. For a moment he didn't think she was going to say anything but then she said very softly and he thought almost emotionally, "Yeah… it is…. it belonged to someone very, very special to me."

_What an old flame?_ he thought a little jealously. _Get a hold of yourself, Messer. You should be glad she's in good spirits no matter what the reason_.

"Messer," Hawkes called from the doorway. "We're on. We've got a couple of vic's in an alley not far from Central Park"

"Okay I'm coming," he called after Hawkes. "Have a good day, Lindsay," he said softly and then he was gone.

Damn him! He could still make her heart skip a beat. Maybe someday, she mused. But she couldn't think about that now. She had to go talk to Mac about getting some time off.

That night in her apartment, Lindsay laid the Mickey Mouse watch very carefully on her bureau. It had been a good day. She had finished a pile of paperwork. She had talked to Mac about some time off to go home to Montana. Danny had given a heart stopping smile as she had left for day. "Ya going home now? You be careful, alright." He had said it in that thick accent and playful tone that always made her smile. Yes, it had been a good day.

--------------------------------------------------

The next day, Lindsay woke up late. The damn alarm hadn't gone off. She could have swore she set it. She scrambled around to get out the door and on her way before the city streets got crowded. When was the city not crowded, she thought peevishly. She looked on the bureau for her Mickey Mouse watch. It wasn't there! Her heart went up into her throat. That was one of the few things of Laurel's that she had here in New York. She moved stuff around on the top of the bureau. She looked in the drawers, underneath the bureau, under her bed, on the bedside table. She couldn't understand it, first her phone, then the alarm clock, now her watch. Was she slowly losing her mind? With tears filling her eyes, she sighed. She had to get to work, there was no time left. She'd have to continue tearing her apartment apart this evening.

Ten hours later she was back home in her apartment. It had been a tedious day. For once there hadn't been much going on which was rare for the New York Crime Lab but it did happen once in a great while. Lindsay thought that being bored was much harder than being overworked by a long stretch. Even Danny hadn't been around to help break up the monotony. It must have been his day off.

At least she'd have the energy to search her apartment for her watch. But first a shower was in order. Thirty minutes later, wrapped in a towel she went to the bureau to get some comfy pajamas. A glint on the top of the bureau caught her eye. _What the…_ It was the Mickey Mouse watch right where she had put it the night before. She let out a shaky sigh of relief but she just couldn't understand it. Maybe it was just some long-term after effects of the sleeping pills she had been taking a few days ago. That's it she vowed to herself, no more sleeping pills. And to hold herself to it she flushed the rest of the prescription in the toilet.

That night she wore the Mickey Mouse watch to bed, double-checked her alarm and clipped her cell phone onto the waistband of the pants that she was going to wear tomorrow. Good thing too because just as her alarm buzzed the next morning, Mac called.

**Author's Note**: As you can tell by now, my other genres are mystery, drama and relationship and character development. So if you're not into that, I apologize but please keep reading because I've already started writing the bits that come after all this and let me tell you it is going to an M rating once I post those. It will still be sweet though, not too hard core. A little something for everyone I always say!


	13. Shattered

**Author's Note:** Special thanks to my editor, proofreader and character consultant, D.D. And a big thank you to all you out in fan fic land who are reading and reviewing!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Shattered

She went straight from her apartment to the crime scene. Mac hadn't said much about the crime just that he needed her there ASAP as it looked like the vic had already been deceased for a couple of days. _Great a really smelly case!_

When she arrived at what she assumed was the vic's apartment, she ducked under the crime scene tape and walked back towards the bedroom where she heard Danny and Mac's voices. Flack called out a greeting to her from behind as she entered the bedroom so she looked over her shoulder to return the greeting. When she looked around again she was at foot of the bed where the crime had been committed.

In a split second, her eyes took in the scene, her head began to spin and the nausea rose in her throat. Her voice screamed insider her head, _Oh God, Laurel! No, this can't be. This can't be. I thought he was gone. _ Mac and Danny who were standing on opposite sides of the bed from each other both caught a quick glimpse of Lindsay's stricken expression before she turned away.

She stood with her back to the bed, eyes closed, willing herself to continue to stand upright and breath. Danny was at her elbow in an instant. "Hey, take a deep breath. I know it's a gruesome scene." he said concern mirrored in his face. He knew she hadn't seen as many gruesome crime scenes as the other CSI's on the team but she had never been a lightweight when it came to viewing and processing scenes. She was just as professional as the rest of them. But this had definitely given her quite a start.

He watched the emotions play across her face. He knew she was struggling to keep her composure. He was just about to take her by the elbow and usher her out of the room when she began to speak.

"I know this killer," she said in a calm, clear and controlled voice.

Mac spoke for the first time since Lindsay had turned away. He had heard her but thought surely she had misspoke. "You mean you know the victim," he said confidently.

She swallowed hard. "No, I know this killer." She continued. "Vic is a young woman between 18 and 30, confined to the bed with leather ties at the wrists and ankles. The knot is a trucker's hitch which tightens the more you struggle against it but will release with the ease of a shoelace if you know how to do it. It's a knot commonly used to tie down loads on trailers and semi's.

With each detail that she parroted off, Danny looked back over at the victim on the bed mentally confirming every detail. His horror was growing by the second as he realized what impact this case must have had on Lindsay for her to remember every detail from at least a year ago. It couldn't have been any earlier than that because he couldn't remember processing a scene like this since she had been in the NY Crime Lab.

Her voice never wavered as she continued listing the details. It was as if she was in a trance, in another place, with another picture in her mind's eye. The last detail came as a complete shock. "If you check the inside of the vic's upper arm, you'll find a Roman numeral cut into her skin." She paused then she continued in a much fainter voice. "I hope it is only a VII."

Then her eyes fluttered open, she gave a shudder and said, "Excuse me, I have to get some air," as she hurried out of the apartment.

Mac stared at Lindsay's retreating back then glanced at Danny who had taken off his glasses and had his head bent into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. When he looked up at Mac, his eyes were red. As he put on his glasses he said, "I gotta go"

"check on Lindsay." Mac finished knowingly. "Go ahead… and send her back to the lab if you need to."

"Right," he said as he strode out of the room.

When Danny emerged from the building, he looked up and down the street but he saw no sign of Lindsay. Then he heard a retching noise from the side of the building. He stepped back into the shadow of the entryway until he saw her go over to the CSI SUV, yank open the door, grab a bottle of water from the interior, wrench off the lid, take a large mouthful and spit it violently into the gutter. Then she just stood there looking into the street, her arms wrapped around her body, her hands gripping her upper arms. He walked up quietly behind her. She saw his reflection in the SUV window.

"God Lindsay, I'm so sorry," his voice cracked a little bit and he put his hands on her upper arms, on top of her hands. She laced her fingers through his.

"Danny, I'm okay," she said a bit tremulously.

He pulled her gently back against his chest wrapping both his arms around her. Right now he just wanted to erase these horrible memories playing through her mind. She could feel his warm breath on her ear and her heart thumped in response. His arms felt so safe and warm. She wished she could just stay there forever.

"Lindsay," he whispered in her ear. "Mac says that you can head back to the lab. We can handle this one."

"What?"

He turned her around to face him and he put his arms on her shoulders. "Look it's obvious that you've been through this hell before and you don't have to put yourself through it again."

"Put myself through it again!" she said disbelievingly. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. "Put myself through it again!" she repeated. Her cheeks flared and her eyes watered. "I did not put myself through it. It happened to me!"

"What do you mean?" he asked by now very confused. "You mean that sick son of a bitch attacked you?" he said angrily, clenching and unclenching fists.

"No, Danny, I didn't mean me literally I meant six other women in Bozeman. Six- other- women-, Danny-," she punctuated each word. "Any one of which could have been me. I mean what was there to differentiate any one of them from me? Why one of them instead of me? "Lindsay was shaking her head emphatically now, "No, no, I'm not backing down from this. I vowed if I ever got another chance at this bastard I would personally escort him to hell."

He had never seen her so tormented and angry. "Lindsay," he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "you can't make it too personal… you can't…" He was struggling to find the right words to impart his hard-found wisdom to her without totally pissing her off. "Look, if you do, it will make you crazy and you could do something that crosses the line. Trust me you don't want to cross the line."

Lindsay swallowed hard. She couldn't even tell him about Laurel. That stung. After being in his arms just seconds ago she knew she wanted to tell him. She wanted to open up to him, pour out her grief, her anger and her frustration, to have him respond with his support and empathy, to wrap her in his arms and make it all disappear albeit if only for a little while, but she couldn't risked being pulled off this case. She just couldn't!

She looked away from him for a full minute willing herself to appear calm and collected before she said, "You're right, you're absolutely right." She looked him directly in the eye. "We better get back. We have a crime scene to process."

How does she do that he thought. How does she just suddenly just turn off all that emotion? If it had been him, he would have had to throw a couple of punches at something, kick a trash can or two. He didn't believe for a moment that she had this under control. Oh no, he was going to be watching her back and closely.


	14. Mac

**Author's Note:** I want to thank everyone who gave reviews on the last couple of chapters. They were very rewarding and I'm going to keep writing. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to reply individually to everyone because I had to spend some time in my real life yesterday. But please keep R&R'ing.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Mac

Four grueling hours later, the CSI SUV was loaded and the body was on its way to the morgue. Lindsay wanted nothing more than to go home, submerse herself in a hot tub full of bubbles, down a bottle of wine and top it off with a sleeping pill. _Damn, she didn't have the sleeping pills any longer. What rotten timing._

"Danny, take the SUV back to the lab." Mac said to Danny. Then he looked at Lindsay, "I want you to ride with me." Danny gave Lindsay a quick glance. She saw the question in his eyes, _Are you okay with this?_ She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders at him. What could she do? Mac was her boss. When he said 'Let's Ride' you rode.

She was not looking forward to this at all. She would much rather ride back with Danny because she could always tell him she didn't want to talk. But with Mac she didn't have the option that is if she wanted keep her job.

_Just dandy!_ She slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. As Mac got in he stole a quick glance at her. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead. She was not volunteering anything. After a few moments of driving, he started the conversation.

"Lindsay, obviously you know something about this case. We're going to have to get the case files from your previous jurisdiction in Bozeman."

"I think that would be a wise idea," she said still not looking at him. Well if this is all he wanted she'd be okay. But no, not only was Mac thorough he also didn't miss a beat.

"That was quite a reaction you had to the crime scene today," she nodded in agreement with him but still kept her eyes trained straight ahead, which was fine for now as he was maneuvering through traffic and he didn't really notice she hadn't looked at him yet.

"With your familiarity with the case, I want you on it but I need to be sure that you can handle it… that it isn't personal," he queried.

For the first time since getting in the car, she looked at him. "Mac, I assure you, I can handle it and it isn't personal." She crossed her fingers in her lap as she said those last three words. In a sense it was true. She _didn't know_ this latest victim and technically when Laurel had been found and it was revealed that she was her sister, Lindsay had been taken off the case. That had angered her to no end. It made her burn just thinking about it now. She had still followed the investigation as closely as she could but soon after Laurel's murder the murders had stopped and the leads had dried up. She swore then that someday she would get out of Bozeman, seek out the best CSI departments, learn all she could, then reopen the case and nail the son-of-a-bitch who took her sister's life.

"Okay," Mac replied evenly. "I'm going to let you and Danny run with this one. He'll be the lead because he has the experience and seniority but I'll keep very close tabs on it. That sound okay with you?"

She tried to keep from sounding too grateful and relieved. She was on the case! "Fine with me, Mac."

When they arrived back the lab, Mac called both Danny and Lindsay into his office. "Danny as I already told Lindsay on the drive over here, I am going to let you guys run with this one. I've already called the Bozeman CSI and they are expediting the case files from those murders to us. They should be here tomorrow morning. Meanwhile get on the evidence and see what we can find out. One of the first things I want is DNA from the suspect. I want to verify one way or the other if this is the same guy. Okay?"

They both nodded. "Alright get to work. I don't want to see this guy getting to anymore women."


	15. In The Lab

**Author's Note:** An extra chapter for you guys today since you all are so good to me.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

In The Lab

Silence ensued as Danny and Lindsay walked back to lab to begin organizing and processing the evidence. Each were lost in their own thoughts, Lindsay pondering how quickly they could process the evidence and start getting DNA and trace results back while Danny was wondering what in the heck Mac had said to Lindsay during the car ride to the lab and what was going through Lindsay's mind about the case. _You could just ask you know, Messer._ He stole a quick glance at her profile noting the intense concentration in her face. _Nah_, he knew that look, she was in that deep processing mode of hers. No chance of real conversation right now.

It was a companionable silence that they shared as they worked the evidence. Each seemed to know the other's next move, who needed to process what piece of evidence next and when to look over the other's shoulder and give a well-thought out opinion or pointer. It was so different than Lindsay's first day in the NY CSI lab over a year ago. Then Danny had been resentful that she was here in Aiden's place but it hadn't taken him long to admit to a grudging admiration of her work ethic and skill. Yup, things were so different now.

They worked well into the evening until they hit a lull when they were just waiting for results to come back.

"Want to head around the corner and pick up a bite to eat?" Danny asked Lindsay hopefully.

She just looked at him tiredly. "No," she finally said after a long pause, "I think I'll just put my feet up and wait for the results. But if you go, can you pick me up something?"

"Sure, the usual?" he queried. He had done this many times for her before, pick up something for her. After all she rarely took him up on his offers of lunch.

"Yeah."

He just nodded and left without another word. Truth be told, he was disappointed. He was hoping that after their small moment today when she had let him hold her that she would be willing to at least spend some time with him, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances right now.

After Danny left, Lindsay folded her arms on the lab table and laid her head on them. Truth be told, she was just too emotional to go to dinner with him. She was afraid she would spill her guts to him and it would be all over. She would be off the case. She couldn't risk that. She wearily walked to the break room to get a cup of coffee but when she saw the couch in the corner she couldn't resist. And that's where Danny found her, an hour and a half later.

For a long time he nursed a tepid cup of coffee, watching Lindsay sleep. She was so peaceful. Her wavy hair was splayed wildly across the arm of the couch and it reminded him of that first night he'd been in her apartment. It seemed like eons ago but in actuality it was only a couple of weeks ago. She sighed softly in her sleep and shifted her position slightly. He felt the emotion and desire rise in him concurrently. He remembered how she had wanted him to stay after the nightmare and how her body how felt against his. _Stop it, Messer or you are not going to be able to walk out of here_. So he went to the locker room, positioned himself on a bench the best he could and tried to get some semblance of sleep.

And that's where Lindsay found him the next morning. There was no man that could look more handsome as he slept than Danny Messer. She remembered the last time she had watched him sleep that morning in her apartment. Her heart fluttered, as she knelt beside him and began to outline the contours of his face with her index finger. She lightly traced one eyebrow, then the other, along the ridge of his nose and on to his lips. His hand came up quickly and caught her fingers to his lips in a soft kiss. As his eyes opened, even without his glasses, he could not mistake the tenderness in her eyes. He reached up with his other hand to pull her head down to his lips when they heard the locker room door open.

"Damn" he swore softly under his breath. "We'll definitely finish this later," he said with conviction in his voice.

She nodded mutely at him. She stood up and took a step backwards. As she watched him sit up on the bench and rub the back of his neck with one hand she said, "The files from Bozeman are here."


	16. The Bozeman Files

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Bozeman Files

When they walked into the briefing room, Danny saw 7 boxes sitting on the conference table, one for each victim and one for the suspect. As Lindsay walked over to the first box, she began listing details about the first victim. It sounded so robotic but Danny noticed her hand trembling as she lifted the lid. She pulled out the file, took out the morgue picture of the victim and handed it to Danny. He fastened it to the board, picked up the marker and began writing down the details. He could see her through glass pinup board and he noticed that she never looked at the notes in the file she was holding. He could go back later and check the details she was telling him against what was in the file but he knew they would match exactly. This case really had Lindsay in its grips.

On the last victim's box, Lindsay's hand rested on the lid for a full minute before she opened it. She pulled the file out very slowly, opened it and stared another full minute at morgue picture clipped to the inside cover before she shut it quickly, placed it on the table and said very faintly, "I'm sorry, I need to take a break. Excuse me." She walked swiftly out of the room. Danny didn't know whether to go after her immediately or give her a few minutes. Remembering the other instances when things had gotten to her and her need for space at those moments, he decided to give her a few minutes.

In the meantime, his curiosity piqued, he strode over to the table and flipped open the file. It was always a little unnerving to see a morgue picture. You never really got over seeing them, and you never really forgot one, they just became further recessed in your mind behind other morgue pictures that you saw as you continued to do the job day after day. So it was no surprise when this one appeared hauntingly familiar. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly but there was an unnerving familiarity about it. Probably just a fluke resemblance to some other person he'd seen at sometime or other. You know they said that everyone had at least one twin in this world. He decided to go ahead and post this case instead of waiting for Lindsay to come back. It would save her some angst even though he knew she had this case burned into her memory just like all the others.

Mac came into the room and surveyed the board. "Have you got anything yet?"

"No, not really, just finishing the posting." Danny replied thoughtfully. "But you know this last victim in Bozeman fit the profile of all the other victims even the one from here, _except _that she was married, although only for 9 days. It just seems rather odd. Maybe the killer didn't realize she was married but he seemed so methodical in all other aspects of choosing his victims. How would a detail like that go unnoticed?" He mused on that last detail more to himself than to Mac.

"Well you know what they say. The answer lies in the smallest details." Mac replied sagely.

Danny glanced at Mac, "Never truer words spoken, Mac. Never truer words spoken."

"Where's Lindsay?"

"Um, went to get coffee," Danny said a little uncomfortably.

Mac looked at Danny for a second then said "Okay, keep me posted."

Mac passed Lindsay on the way out of the briefing room. Noticing only a file folder in her hands he said, "Did you forget the coffee?"

"What?" she asked him blankly.

"Never mind," he said with a small smile and continued on his way.

"Montana, please tell me you got good news." Danny said as gestured to the folder in Lindsay's hands.

"Well it depends on how you look at it," Lindsay said nervously licking her lips. "This is the DNA results on the semen we pulled from the victim here. Why don't you pull the Bozeman file on the suspect and see if we have a match." Her head felt a little light with the thought that it might be the same guy. _Wasn't that what she wanted? She surely didn't want two guys out there doing the same horrible things to these young women. But if it were a different guy maybe Laurel's killer was actually already dead. But she couldn't be sure either way. And could she live with that unknown? _Her head started to spin. She was driving herself crazy with all this conjecture. The only way to find the answers was to look at the evidence.

"Bingo," said Danny as he found the page with the DNA results for the Bozeman suspect. "Okay let's have a look see," as he took the file on the NY suspect from Lindsay's hands.

"Well I'll be… " Danny started.

"What, what, WHAT?" Lindsay interrupted.

"Our Bozeman killer is the same as our NY killer." Danny whistled through his teeth.

Lindsay's hand gripped the back of the chair she was standing next to. She felt out of breath and then her body went cold.

She willed herself to speak. "Danny, Adam got some inconclusive results on one of the samples that we sent him so I'm going to go back to the lab and prepare another sample."

"Do you need any help?" he raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

"No, no," she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear tiredly. "I got it. Since I've seen all these cases, why don't you stay here and start going through them in depth to see if you can unearth anything useful."

That was Lindsay, always taking the most efficient and logical path. "What did you mean about the good news?" Danny asked her as she turned to go.

"What do you mean?" she asked him with a blank look on her face.

"You know the DNA. You said it could be good news depending on how you looked at it."

"I don't really know anymore." Lindsay replied distractedly and she left.

He thought about calling her back and making sure she really was okay but he knew he'd probably get nowhere with that. Plus he was anxious to mull through the Bozeman files in depth and try to get some more insight into this killer's mind in order to help catch him.

Since he had what he thought was a telling discrepancy on victim number six, he decided to start with victim number one and see if he could eliminate that discrepancy as irrelevant based on the details in the other five cases.


	17. The Picture

**Author's Note**: An extra long chapter today especially for all the fans out there R&R'ing. I really appreciate all your comments and encouragement! And as always Muchas Gracias to D.D. for the incredible job she does in keeping me true to the characters!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Picture

Lindsay returned to the lab to prepare the sample. She could do this part of the job in her sleep and that is exactly how she felt as if she were in a nightmare and she couldn't wake up. Would it never end she thought to herself. Preparing the sample took the better part of the day and after she had sent it off to Adam, she got out the evidence from the NY victim and tried to match it up with what she knew about the Bozeman victims. Maybe if she could isolate a difference it could be a clue that would point them to a suspect. After all, Bozeman is a different place than New York and the killer may have had to adapt in some way for those differences. That sounded so morbid she thought to herself. But that was how she was paid to think.

By quitting time, if there is such a thing in the CSI world when you are actively working a case, she had examined all the evidence and hadn't come up with a thing. She realized she hadn't eaten all day so she packed up the evidence put it away and headed to the break room. Nothing in the vending machines looked appetizing, so she absentmindedly looked in the refrigerator. She noticed the sack from the eating establishment Danny had gone to yesterday evening and realized that must be her dinner he brought back. When she looked into the sack and confirmed it to be hers she carried it to her office. She really didn't want to run into anyone in the break room and have to engage in idle chit chat. She was relieved to see that Danny wasn't around even though she would have been happy to see him if he had had any breaks in the case.

She sat at her desk and chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out the picture of her and Laurel from Laurel's wedding. She had been meaning to get a frame for it and put it on her desk before the NY murder had happened but alas that plan had fallen to the wayside. She took off the Mickey Mouse watch and laid it beside the picture. _Laurel, I hope to God we catch this guy._ _I want to see him squirm and burn in hell._

Then the emotion just seemed to overwhelm her and she pushed back the picture, the watch and the food and laid her head and arms on the desk and cried.

Danny came in softly and was about to put his hands on her shoulders in comfort when he spied the picture and the watch. It was a very carefree and happy Lindsay with her arm around a bride. The bride looked ecstatic as brides should look like on their wedding day. But there was something else about that bride. She somehow looked familiar. What was it? Lindsay and the bride didn't exactly look alike except around the mouth. They had that same wide-mouthed smile with those perfect white teeth and the same adorable cleft in the chin. Otherwise the bride had twinkling blue eyes while Lindsay had those big, brown, soulful eyes. And the bride's hair was pulled up onto her head but he could see that it was a shade lighter than Lindsay's. He wanted to flip the picture over and read the caption on the back but he also didn't want to violate Lindsay's privacy. Lord knows he was having enough trouble trying to get her to open up to him without her catching him trying to take a peek of the back of one of her personal pictures.

So he settled for turning himself around and leaning back against her desk right beside her. She wasn't crying now and he knew that she knew he was there. "Lindsay," he said softly.

"What?" came her muffled response.

"Let me take you home."

"I'm in no mood to talk, Messer," she replied defiantly.

He knew when she called him Messer that it was going to be a tough sell. "I'm in no mood to talk either," he replied dryly.

"And I'm also not in the mood for anything else!" she retorted lifting her head and staring at him with her tear-stained face and a determined set to her jaw.

His heart tightened to see the sadness in her face but he was not going to take no for an answer. "Look Monroe, I don't want to fight with you, I'm not looking for anything from you. I'm just trying to do a nice thing for you because I can see that you are emotional, exhausted and in an extreme need of a break from this case. That's all."

As much as she hated to admit it, he had an excellent point. She looked at him a moment longer and then sighed, "Okay, lets go." She turned to her desk to gather up her stuff and noticed the picture. She shot him a guilty look but the expression on his face was unfathomable.

All the way to Lindsay's apartment, Danny kept thinking about the picture on her desk and that guilty look on her face when she realized he had seen it. Something just didn't add up. Why would such a seemingly benign personal snapshot warrant such guilt?

When he parked near her apartment, he turned off the SUV, turned to her and took a deep breath. "I'm not trying to pry here, Lindsay, but you seemed upset about the picture on your desk. If there is anything you want to tell me, I'm listening."

She looked at him with those deep brown eyes filling with tears and he knew he had to comfort her. He couldn't stand seeing her like that and not doing something about it. He pulled her over to him and wrapped his arms around her.

She knew it was over then, she just couldn't hold it back any longer. She cried a river on to his shirt front and he murmured into her hair that it was going to be okay. When she was done she pulled back and said simply, "It was my sister, Laurel, on her wedding day."

"You two looked very happy," he said tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear.

"We were," she said softly as she looked away. "I really need to go to sleep." She was so weary and sad she didn't care anymore what happened. She just wanted to numb herself.

"Let me walk you up." Danny got out, came around to the other side of the SUV and opened up the door. He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her out of the SUV and up against his chest. He held her eyes with his and said, "Some day Lindsay Monroe." and left it at that. She couldn't even feel her heart flutter when had pulled her closes she was so numb. He was a perfect gentleman as he walked her up, unlocked her door and made sure she got inside. Then when he heard the locks click, he let out a long breath and said "Get some sleep, Montana."

He heard a muffled "Okay" from the other side of the door and then he was gone.

Lindsay absolutely could not think anymore. She ran a tub full of hot water and bubbles, grabbed a bottle of red wine from the kitchen, undressed and sank into oblivion. Two hours later, with the empty wine bottle lying on the bathroom floor and the tub water tepid to the touch, she hauled herself out of the tub. She was going to have one heck of a hangover tomorrow but at least she would sleep tonight. She remembered, right before she collapsed onto her bed, to turn on her alarm.

-------------------------------------------------

Danny drove distractedly to his apartment. Lindsay's words of _Laurel, sister, wedding day, was, were _kept running through his mind. He couldn't quite put it all together. Man he needed sleep but first a beer or two to take off the edge, then he would sleep.

--------------------------------------------------

BRRRINNGG!

Mac distractedly reached for his office phone.

BRRRINNGG!

It was awfully late for an office call, 11:30 pm, he thought as he picked up the phone. If he were being called to a crime scene, it would have been his cell phone. Who could this be?

"Detective Mac Taylor. NY CSI," he answered the phone.

"_Detective Taylor, this is Detective Bill Pressman, Bozeman CSI."_

"Yes, Detective Pressman, I remember you well. I can never repay for letting one of Bozeman's finest come to work here as one of New York's finest. She has a great future here with the department. So what warrants the call?"

"_Actually it is Detective Monroe that I am calling about. I've been out of town for the past two days and I just got back this evening so I apologize for calling at such a late hour."_

"No, no problem. CSI's keep crazy hours as you well know."

"_Yeah, yeah I know," he chucked lightly. "Look I saw the request for the cold case files on the string of murders on the young women here in Bozeman. Actually I'm quite surprised that Detective Monroe is working that case."_

Mac's lips pressed tightly together, "Please go on."

"_Well the last victim in that string of murders was a Laurel Peterson, Lindsay's younger sister. The whole family was very broken up about it and I took Lindsay off the case because well you know, conflict of interest_."

Mac let out a sigh. "Pressman, I really appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Detective Monroe has not spoken to me about that detail so be assured I'll be dealing with her tomorrow."

"_Well sorry to be the bearer of bad news but keep me posted. I'd love to see that bastard caught, drawn, quartered and dragged through the streets of Bozeman or New York for that matter."_

"Will do. Goodnight."

"_Goodnight_."

Mac carefully placed the receiver back in the cradle. He pressed his fingers tips together and brought them to rest against his upper lip. This was disturbing indeed. It certainly explained Lindsay's very startled reaction to the crime scene. He just assumed it was due her familiarity with the murders from Bozeman and shock at seeing one in New York. But he'd assumed everything was on the up and up when Lindsay came back and worked the scene as a complete professional and then told him in the car on the ride back to the lab that it wasn't personal.

Mac slammed his fist on the desk. This was such a cowboy thing to do no pun intended. He never expected something like this from Lindsay, maybe from Danny yes but not Lindsay. Danny was the loose cannon at times and he had purposely paired them together a lot hoping that Lindsay's level headed ways would rub off on Danny. Maybe it had happened the other way around.

He'd have a talk with Danny tomorrow too. He wondered if he knew about Lindsay's sister. He hoped not or that would be two issues he would have to deal with.

Mac made one phone call before he packed it in for the night and then sighed as he looked around the crime lab on his way out. _Enjoy the peace and quiet now, tomorrow is going to be a difficult day._


	18. The Connection

Author's Note: Changed a bit of the dialogue to clarify what I intended in Lindsay's reaction to Danny finding out about her sister. DistractedlyHere, whose name belies her astute attention to detail, pointed this out. Thanks DistractedlyHere and all the other readers who keep me on my toes! This is why I like the reviews, they make my writer tighter!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Connection

At 4:00 in the morning, Danny finally sat up in bed and admitted that he was not going to get another wink of sleep. He decided to take a hot shower and do some thinking. As the hot water ran over his groggy head and tired muscles, thoughts kept swirling in his mind, like Lindsay's guilty and tearstained face, 7 young women all murdered in exactly the same way, 6 in Bozeman, Montana and 1 in New York. Almost all had the same M.O. except 6 were in Bozeman and 1 was in New York. The last one in Bozeman had been married. That was the really puzzling fact about the last Bozeman murder. How does it all fit together he wondered? Then his thoughts went back to the picture of Lindsay and her married sister and then to the married murder victim, then to the picture of Lindsay's married sister and then to the married murder victim. Then he almost retched in the shower as it came to him.

He quickly jumped out of the shower, toweled off and threw on some clothes. He grabbed his gun, phone and keys and ran out of the apartment. He had to get to the briefing room and check the file on the last Bozeman murder victim. He knew he could confirm his suspicions through that file. That is the only file he hadn't read over with a fine tooth comb. He had intended to but he had decided to take a break after reading the first five and go check on Lindsay. That is when he had found her crying and subsequently he had taken her home. He had been so preoccupied with her that he had completely forgotten the file.

When he arrived at the briefing room he strode over to the board and looked at the morgue picture. It sickened him to finally see the likeness to Lindsay. It was there around the chin and lips. The hair was a shade lighter than Lindsay's like in the picture Lindsay had of the two of them. That's what the guilty look was all about. It was all too surreal. _Oh God Lindsay, what must you be going through! Why hadn't she told him? _

He flipped open the file and began reading through the notes. _The victim was found at 1661 Gateway #3B at 3:00 am, a the home of Detective Lindsay Monroe, Bozeman CSI. _He read further through the notes. _Victim was found by her sister, Detective Lindsay Monroe of the Bozeman CSI after returning from an 11 pm call to a crime scene._ He skimmed through the notes detailing the conditions of the victim etc. Okay here it is. _Per the orders of Detective Bill Pressman, First Grade, Bozeman CSI, Detective Lindsay Monroe has been removed from the case due to conflict of interest._

He remembered her vehemence in wanting to catch this perpetrator. That is why she hadn't told him, because it is standard operating procedure to be removed from a case once it is determined there is a personal connection. _Damn_ _Montana, this is a really gusty and suicidal move! She had crossed the line and her career could be over. He had to talk to her._

He looked at the clock. Oh good almost 7:00 am. She should be here any minute.

----------------------------------------------------

Lindsay's alarm went off at what seemed like 10 decibels above normal. She crawled out of bed, started the coffee maker and gulped down four ibuprofen pills. _Damn, this was going to be a killer of a day._ One hot shower and a cup of coffee later, she felt some semblance of wakefulness. She dressed quickly gathered up her stuff, locked up and headed out to work.

Forty-five mind-numbing minutes later she arrived at the lab. As she walked past the briefing room, she saw a very tired and irritated looking Messer waving her inside. She mouthed coffee at him but he opened the door and said "Now Monroe." He had never spoken to her in that tone of voice, curt.

"Hey, Messer, you look like you changed clothes but like you haven't slept," she joked trying to lighten the mood, even though she felt as heavy as a brick herself.

"You look real rested yourself, Monroe," he said sarcastically taking in her washed out appearance.

_Gosh what was up with him?_

"Monroe, if there is any reason at all you should not be on this case you need to tell me now," his voice was quiet but deadly serious.

She licked her lips nervously, "You found out." she said weakly almost glad that he knew but realizing she should have been the one to tell him.

"Dammit, Lindsay, I'm a CSI, didn't you think I would find out?" he spat at her as he tossed Laurel's file across to her. "What did I say about making it personal?"

She knew that was a rhetorical question.

"Do you realize this could be a career ending move for you?"

He stared hard at her and she stared back biting her lip in consternation.

Just then Mac stuck his head in the door and said curtly, "Lindsay, my office, now!"

She heard Danny swear under his breath as she headed out the door after Mac.


	19. Busted

Author's Note: Changed just a bit of dialogue to better reflect Mac's character, as pointed out by a very astute reader who I think was prplerayne. If it was another reader, I apolgize and let me know!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Busted

Lindsay sat on the edge of the chair across from Mac's desk and looked at him. He, however, was not looking at her. This made her even more nervous. _Calm down Lindsay, he interrogates criminals for a living but so do you. Just keep your cool!_ He had his index finger on his lips and he was looking off to the side as if he were collecting his thoughts.

When he turned to her, she absolutely could not read his expression. _Oh this was going to be bad, just bad. She just knew it. She would way rather deal with Messer's temper than Mac's quiet fury._

"Lindsay, when I hired you over a year ago, I had complete faith that you would make an excellent CSI. You have impeccable lab skills, a great sense of intuition and a very level head on your shoulders. The very level head was particularly attractive because within the last eighteen months, I've had to fire one CSI for evidence tampering and take another off the promotion grid for insubordination. I don't need those kinds of cowboy tactics in this office.

She swallowed hard. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. _Dammit!_ She would not cry in front this man whom she respected and admired. She knew she deserved anything he dished out to her. Like Danny said, she had crossed the line.

"It has come to my attention that the last of the Bozeman murder victims was your sister," he said gravely.

There went one tear sliding down her cheek. He handed her a box of Kleenex and she quickly wiped her eyes.

He continued in a much softer tone, "I am truly sorry for your loss."

She took a deep breath, "Thank you for saying that."

Then his face became very serious again. "But Lindsay, you were way out of line by staying on this case once you knew there was a personal connection. I have no choice but to take you off it!"

She nodded mutely.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again."

"You better hope not because there won't be a second chance. Understand?"

"Yes," she said gratefully.

"Okay what I need you to do now is to go to JFK airport and get on a plane to Montana for some much needed R&R. There is a ticket waiting for you at the counter under your name. I don't want to see you back in this office for a week."

"But Mac, I can't leave right now with the investigation going on. I just can't. I have to be here when they catch Laurel's murderer. I can't live without knowing what's going on," she babbled. She just felt such destitution at being shut out like that.

"Lindsay, I understand your feelings but this is an order. Get out of town for the next week and allow yourself some downtime. Do I make myself clear?" That last sentence was stated with such authority she knew she had no recourse.

"As a bell," she replied stiffly.

"Plane leaves at 11:00 so you have just enough time to catch it if you leave within the next 20 minutes."

She got up to leave and as her hand was on the doorknob, he said to her in a very encouraging tone, "Lindsay, I'm on your side. I want you to know that."

Her back stiffened and she walked out of his office without a backward glance.


	20. The Fight

**Author's Note**: One of my favorite chapters that I've written so far. I adore D/L emotion! Let me know what you think.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Fight

Boy her blood was boiling as she strode down the hall. How dare Messer rat her out to Mac before she had a chance to tell him herself. And he had the nerve to get on her case when he knew Mac would be doing it too. _How dare he? Who did he think he was?_ She was going to have words with him.

Danny was not in the briefing room or the lab. When she marched into their office, he was staring intently at the computer screen on his desk. He looked up with a quizzical look on his face. "So how did it go with Mac?"

"How did it go with Mac? How did it go with Mac?" she fired at him. She had her hands on his desk and was leaning over with her face inches from his.

"How do you think it went with Mac after you ratted me out to him about Laurel's murder," she retorted her face twisted in anger.

"What are you talking about, Monroe?" he threw at her as he popped up out of his seat and mirrored her pose on the opposite side of the desk.

"How can you play so innocent Messer?"

"I _am_ innocent, Monroe, I didn't tell him I swear!" Danny cried vehemently.

She looked at him first with anger in her eyes but as his mesmerizing blue eyes held hers, the anger turned to hurt. Emotionally she choked out, "How could you do that to me? You, of all people, who knows what it's like to have lost a sibling? You of all people who I went to first when I found potentially damaging evidence against you in a crime case so that you could handle it with Mac in a way that you saw fit. You didn't give me that chance. You took it to Mac before I had the chance." Now the tears were flowing down her face freely.

His heart was breaking for her. If he had known she was going to be busted by Mac, he would have gone easier on her. He had just been so angry that she hadn't opened up to him and had put herself in a precarious position. But right now he wanted nothing more than to take her away from here and wipe away all her pain, make it right between them. He came around the desk and stood as close to her as he could without touching her. She was still facing his desk so he was able to speak directly into her ear. "Lindsay, I swear upon my mother that I did not tell Mac. You have to believe me."

"How can I believe you?" she stammered. He touched her arm gently and she flinched.

"Lindsay," he said brokenly, right up against her ear, "let's go talk this out right now, you and I. I promise we can work this out."

She felt his warm breath on her cheek and her heart began to melt just a bit. But she had to go. She had to catch a plane to Montana. And her anger welled back up at that thought: anger that she had to leave, anger that she wouldn't be here to help catch Laurel's killer, anger that it should have been her and not Laurel that died that night and anger that Danny had betrayed her. The anger threatened to spill over, consume her and devastate the man who was so desperately trying to make things right with her. So she handled it the only way she could at the moment.

She looked him straight in the eye and said through clenched teeth, "I can't, Mac is shipping me out of here on the first plane to Montana so I have to go to the airport now."

She turned on her heels and stalked out of the office but he caught her elbow just outside the door and spun her around to face him. "Lindsay Monroe, this isn't over, I'll call you when you get to Montana."

Her eyes blazed at his high-handedness and the anger started to seep out like a molten lava flow from a volcano on the verge of eruption. She had tried to contain it but that little maneuver he had pulled just now sent her over the edge. All the frustration, angst, stress, sadness and now hopelessness that she had experienced over the past two years came spewing forth. "It _is_ over Danny Messer! And don't call me because I don't want to hear your voice and I sure as hell don't want to see your face ever again. Do you hear me, Danny Messer? You have screwed up my life enough. Thank you very much!" And she wrenched her elbow out of his grip and stalked off down the hall.

"Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!" Danny exclaimed as he kicked the office door with a vengeance. Then he looked around at the stunned looks in the hall, Stella, Hawkes, Flack, Adam and Mac. _F'ing' A, not Mac!_

"Danny in my office now!" Mac clipped out.


	21. Ultimatum

**Reader's Challenge**: There are two lines in this chapter lifted from episodes. You diehard CIS: NY fans can you pick them out, tell me who said them and from which episodes? One is obvious, the other is not. Let me know if you figure it out. BTW have I said how much I love Mac/Danny interaction. I do almost as much as D/L interaction!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Ultimatum

Danny went into Mac's office pacing like a caged animal. "Danny shut the door!" Mac clipped out again. Danny hadn't seen Mac this mad since he had gone against Mac's direct orders to drop a case and he had gone ahead and worked it anyway. _Dammit, how could he be back in this position again? He had worked so hard to keep his nose clean the last eighteen months and now…_ _Damn that Montana!_

Mac just watched Danny pace for a few minutes. When Danny calmed down enough to at least sit in a seat Mac began. "Okay, what was that all about?"

"Damned if I know." Danny replied sarcastically.

Mac knew it was personal if Danny was avoiding the question and getting surly about it to boot. Mac just raised his eyebrows and waited for Danny to continue.

"Mac, look I just need a friend right now not a boss." Danny said desperately.

Mac groaned inwardly. This was not promising. The last time Danny had said those very words to him had been in conjunction with Danny's DNA being found at a murder scene. Even though everything had sorted itself out in the end, it was not before Danny's brother, Louie, was beaten to within an inch of his life. Right now Louie was still in a coma from that beating.

"I'm listening," Mac said encouragingly.

"Mon- I mean Lindsay has this mistaken notion that I told you about the connection of her sister's death to this murder investigation. That… that… I didn't give her the chance to tell you herself," he replied running a hand through his hair.

"Well, I know for a fact that you didn't, I can clear that up very easily with Lindsay." Mac said matter of fact.

Danny sighed in relief. "Thanks Mac, that would get me out of a very deep hole."

"That you dug for yourself." Mac added.

"Hell no, Mac," Danny shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"It didn't look that way to me Danny. When Lindsay was out in the hallway yelling at you that she never wanted to see you again and that you had screwed up her life, it seemed a bit more personal to me."

"Nah, Nah, Mac, it ain't that way at all. I mean you know how women are, any little thing can set them off," his accent very thick now.

"Sure, some women, Danny, but not Lindsay. She's not that kind of woman."

"Don't I know it," Danny muttered under his breath.

Mac continued, "Lindsay's the kind of woman that if she gets upset you go after her. The kind of woman that if you let her walk out of your life, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. The kind of woman that will stick by you through thick and thin and make you have fun while you're doing it. When a man loves a woman like that and she loves him back, he is invincible and she is to be cherished every single day of her life."

Danny was staring uncomprehendingly at Mac. "I am not in love with Mon- Lindsay, Mac. Don't say things like that, it ain't funny."

"Danny, let me put it to you this way. This lab cannot function smoothly with you two at odds with each other. If you cannot get this straightened out by the time she gets back from Montana, one of you will have to transfer." Mac said solemnly.

"And let me tell you," he continued pointedly, "right now the balance hangs in Lindsay's favor because as much trouble as she's in now it isn't nearly as serious as the stuff you've put me through in the past."

Danny was almost sure he saw a twinkle in Mac's eye. Danny shrugged his shoulders and mused, "Well you do have a point Mac." And figuring it wouldn't hurt to ask, Danny said, "Can I have a few days off to go up to Montana."

"No!" said Mac quickly. "I've already lost one CSI for a week, and I can't afford to lose another. But here is her parent's number. You're going to need it. The cell phones don't work reliably out where they live."

"Alright, thanks Mac.You think I have a shot?" Danny asked hopefully.

"Don't know, I guess it depends on how well you can talk, the talk." Mac quipped back.

"Oh I can talk the talk." Danny said with his accent thick again and more to himself than to Mac as he put the number away in his shirt pocket.

"There is just one more thing," Mac said as Danny got up to leave. "When and how did you make the connection of Laurel's death with this case?"

"It was actually quite by accident. There was something familiar about the morgue picture of Laurel that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Then I saw a picture of Lindsay and Laurel at Laurel's wedding and I began to see the resemblance. Then when I couldn't sleep, I came in early this morning to go over Laurel's file and it confirmed my suspicions that Laurel and Lindsay were related. I was just talking to Lindsay about it this morning when you interrupted us."

"Oh, sorry about the bad timing. I'll set that part right with Lindsay for you." Mac assured him.

Danny nodded in thanks.

Danny looked at Mac, "Mac, I think you did the right thing by sending Lindsay to Montana."

Mac nodded at Danny and neither one said what they were thinking. It wasn't a coincidence that Laurel had been murdered in Lindsay's apartment in Bozeman and now the killer is in New York.

Finally Mac said, "So get back to work. Grab Hawkes and get him up to speed on this case. I want this solved ASAP."


	22. Going Home

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Going Home

After the fight, Lindsay broke into a run as soon as she was out of sight of all those prying eyes. So much for that old fight OR flight reaction she thought embarrassingly to herself. She did a bang-up job of both fighting AND fleeing. How was she ever going to face all her coworkers again? How was she ever going to face Danny? She had totally lost it with him. Even if he had betrayed her, she hadn't needed to go off on him like that. Her emotions were hanging by a thread at the moment. She swiped her eyes furiously with her hands to stem the tears that threatened to flow down her cheeks as she burst into the locker room, yanked her gear out of her locker and exited the building as quickly as possible.

Outside she hailed a taxi, gave the driver her destination and melted back into the seat. She couldn't think; her mind was swirling with faces and snippets of conversations. If there was anyway she could block the last hour of her existence she would. Hell, if there was anyway to obliterate the last two years of her life that would do, go back to the point in time when Laurel had come back from her honeymoon. Laurel had been so happy. She had been bursting at the seams to tell Lindsay all about her honeymoon and had come to stay with Lindsay overnight when Chad had suddenly been called to Denver on business. They were having such girlish fun talking about the honeymoon, her and Chad's plans and Lindsay's future. Lindsay remembered thinking that one day she hoped there would be a 'Chad' in her life too. And recently until her past had come back to haunt her in full force, she had thought she might be going down that path with Danny. Well, she could just kiss that little pipe dream goodbye. She was sure he was breathing a sigh of relief now that he had found out what a total nut job she was and what a tainted past she had. When she got back from Montana, she was going to put in for a transfer to… to… to anywhere. She didn't care if she ended up in po-dunkville. She just wanted out of New York. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was going to do to block all this pain and guilt.

When the taxi stopped and the driver announced his fare, she must have had the most bewildered look on her face because the driver said, "Are ya alright, lady?"

She shook her head in amazement. They were sitting outside of her apartment building. _What?_ She must have been so distracted that she had given the driver her apartment address by default. _Okay, think, what time is it?_ She looked at her wrist but the Mickey Mouse watch was not there. She felt that familiar tug of panic when she discovered one of her last mementos of Laurel was not where she thought it was. Quickly she pulled out her cell phone. No, this cannot be happening! The display read 9:45. There is no way she could get to the airport in time. Absolutely no way!

"Are you gonna pay me or what?" demanded the taxi driver from the front seat.

"Um, okay, here you go," as she handed him the money and stepped out of the taxi. _Well, I might as well pick up that bottle of wine_. She walked in a daze to the corner market. Why the hell not, she thought, as she picked up two bottles of wine. What did she have to do for the next week anyway? Her heart caught in throat however when she saw the prosciutto and provolone cheese in the cold food section. This must have been where Danny had picked up the groceries when he had stocked her refrigerator that night he had fixed her dinner. _Stop it Lindsay!_ _It's over. You told him that yourself in no uncertain terms._ She paid for the wine, hurried out of the market and back to her apartment.

Back in her apartment, she lapsed into the pain numbing routine she had gone through the night before: steaming hot bubble bath, full bottle of wine, sink into oblivion. She didn't know how long she was in the bathtub but she was brought back to the present by the ringing of her cell phone. Dammit all to hell she swore. As soon as she could safely get out of this tub she was going to turn that thing off but right now her head was spinning too wildly. And she felt sure her legs wouldn't reliably support her if she tried to walk down the hall. Then she heard message beeper go off.

"Can't you see I'm trying to escape from my life," she shouted in frustration at the phone. "Don't remind me that I'm still in it!"

And then she sank back into oblivion.


	23. Bringing In Hawkes

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Bringing in Hawkes

After his chat with Mac, Danny felt much better about setting things right with Lindsay. With Mac clearing up the confusion about who told who what about Lindsay's connection to the murders he felt he'd be able to get back on track with her. Whatever track that was. Mac had floored him when he had gone on about all that love nonsense. I mean, Danny knew he had so many feelings for Lindsay, that he had never had for a woman before but was it really love? He didn't know what it was like to be in love. He had never been in love before. _Table the love issue Messer. Just call Montana tonight in Montana. _Kinda clever, he thought to himself.

Hawkes was standing outside the briefing room watching Danny. He looked so lovesick and forlorn that Hawkes actually wanted to go in and try to cheer him up. But after the scene he witnessed today between Danny and Lindsay, he decided to play it cool. He didn't want to get Danny's ire up again.

"Hey Danny, you paged me," Hawkes said cheerfully as he strolled into the briefing room.

Danny looked up, genuinely glad to see Hawkes. Hawkes had such an easy going, upbeat manner that you couldn't help but feel your spirits lift when you were around him. _Good choice, Mac._

"Yeah, let me give you a quick rundown on the case and then I think I might go canvass around the victim's apartment. I know no one said they saw anything the first time around but you never know what'll turn up the second time around. Somebody had to have seen something," muttered Danny.


	24. Sensing Danger

**Author's Note**: I know these chapter's are a tad short that's why I'm giving you two at a time but they will lengthen again soon. I promise

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Sensing Danger

When Lindsay awoke she was laying across her bed dressed in an old college t-shirt. She couldn't even remember getting out of the tub. As she sat up, her head spun, her stomach lurched and she flopped back onto the bed. She needed coffee and ibuprofen pronto. She tried again to sit up and was able to stem the dizziness just long enough to make her way to the toilet.

Minutes later after paying the appropriate homage to the porcelain god in atonement for guzzling a whole bottle of wine, while sitting in a steaming tub of water, with nary a bit of nutrition in her stomach, she inched her way down the hallway into her kitchen.

Five interminable, agonizing minutes later she had a mug of strong coffee in her hands and four ibuprofen tablets in her stomach. She nibbled on some saltines as she drank her coffee. She couldn't remember when or where or what she had eaten but hopefully saltines would be easy enough on her stomach that she wouldn't be sent back to the toilet for round 2.

She went into the living room, sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. She mindlessly stared at it not sure of what she was even watching. After her fourth cup of coffee and a whole package of saltines later she felt some normalcy returning to her body. She walked back into her bathroom to relieve herself, coffee sure does go through you quick she thought, and saw the two wine bottles on the floor, one from last night and one from this morning. This was becoming a daily habit with her. She sighed, picked up the wine bottles, took them back to the kitchen and set them next to her phone on the little counter that partitioned her living room from her kitchen. Her message light was blinking. She checked her display to see who it was from. Mac Taylor, it read. Nope, there was really nothing she wanted to hear from him right now so she tabled checking the message until later. She called her parents quickly and left them a message that she had been called back to a case and that she wasn't making it home today after all. She was relieved they weren't there to pick up the phone. She didn't want to explain why she was coming home suddenly and then she wasn't.

She looked at the microwave clock in the kitchen. It read 10:30 pm. Maybe she ought to go down and check her mail. She couldn't remember the last time she had checked it. It was probably chock full of useless catalogs and annoying bills. She opened the door and left it ajar as she walked down the three flights of stairs to the mailboxes in the lobby. She absentmindedly leafed through the mail as she climbed back up the stairs and chunked it on the table beside the door and turned around to lockup. As she slid the last bolt in place, the hair on her neck went up.

"Lind---say" a male voice sing-songed softly and menacingly from somewhere behind her.


	25. Smelling Trouble

**Author's Note**: I know these chapter's are a tad short that's why I'm giving you two at a time but they will lengthen again soon. I promise

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Smelling Trouble

Danny returned from canvassing with very little information. Hawkes met him on his way out for the day.

"You have any luck with the canvassing, Danny?" Hawkes inquired.

"No," Danny said wearily. "This is turning into another DJ Pratt case." Both men shivered slightly remembering the rapist who had escaped capture twice and eventually killed Aiden Burn, Danny's previous partner.

_I'm so glad that Lindsay is safe in Montana now_.

"Hey, a bunch of us are going around the corner to grab a beer, you know let off some steam. Join us?" Hawkes asked.

Maybe he would. Sometimes he thought clearer after some downtime. He knew he didn't want to go back to his apartment and be alone tonight. He also needed to call Lindsay. That jangled his nerves. He had no idea how she would react to hearing his voice. Hopefully Mac had already talked to her today. Yeah, he needed that beer.

"I think I'll join you guys. It might be just what the doctor ordered."

-----------------------------------------------------

"Hey," Flack exclaimed as Danny joined the group already well into their first round of beers, "here's the object of today's water cooler gossip now."

"Shut up man." Danny growled at Flack.

"Took it on the chin today didn't you," Flack returned.

"Just a minor setback that'll be ironed out shortly," Danny informed him.

"I don't know about you but from my vantage point it looked like a crash and burn."

Danny gave Flack an exasperated look, "Man, at least I have a life."

"Ouch!" Flack replied in mock pain, plastering a sarcastic grin across his face.

"Not to change the subject," Danny said, "but who's buying the next round."

"That'd be me," piped up Adam from somewhere amid the crowd.

"Okay, I want a double scotch on the rocks."

"Coming right up" Adam replied. "Anyone else ready for the next round?" Cheers went up all around and that is how the evening started.

Danny nursed his drink for a couple of hours before deciding to call Lindsay. He slipped out and found a quite spot on the sidewalk a little ways from the bar, took her parent's number out of his shirt pocket and dialed.

After the third ring, a woman's voice that sounded very much like Lindsay answered, "_Hello_"

Danny assumed it was Lindsay's mother. "Um, yes, hi, this is Detective Danny Messer of the NY CSI. I work with your daughter, Lindsay and I need to speak with her about a case." He threw that last bit about a case in at the last moment. It was kind of sneaky but if she was still angry with him, she might speak to him anyway if she thought he had some news about the murder case.

That was something very odd in the woman's voice as she replied, "_Detective Messer, Lindsay's not here._"

_Oh, this is awkward. She's probably out with some old boyfriend_. _She sure doesn't waste any time._

But the woman's next words sent chills up his spine, "_She left a message a few minutes ago before we arrived home and said she had been called back to a case and wouldn't be coming after all_."

Danny forced his voice to remain normal. "Mrs. Monroe, I apologize for bothering you. Lindsay and I must have gotten our wires crossed. If you hear from her could you please give me a call at this number. It is my cell phone, don't hesitate to call at anytime of the day or night."

He didn't want to alarm her but he had to know when and if she heard from Lindsay. He gave his number and said goodnight.

His thoughts swirled almost out of control as he dialed Lindsay's cell phone. No answer. _Where was she?_ If she wasn't answering her phone, he'd go to her apartment. As he ran back to the bar to get Flack, he called Mac.

Mac answered on the first ring.

"_Danny what's up?_"

"I just got off the phone with Lindsay's mother and Lindsay never made it to Montana

"_What?_"

"I called her cell and she's not answering but it might be because she doesn't want to speak to me. Could you call and see if you can get her? I'm going to grab Flack and head over to her apartment."

"_Okay if I don't get her, I'll meet you over there and if I do I'll give you a call back_."

"Thanks, Mac."

Danny entered the bar, hoping that Flack hadn't drunk too much. He motioned Flack to the door. "Danny, what's up?"

"Listen, Lindsay never made it to Montana. I'm heading over to her apartment to check on her."

"I'm with you. Let's go!"


	26. In Hell

**Author's Note**: I want to thank out all you wonderful readers and reviewers out there. You have absolutely been the best. HUGS The reviews on the last update were terrific and I have a very special chapter for you today. Just remember I love high drama but most of all I love Danny and Lindsay! Let me know if I'm on the money with this one!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

In Hell

"Lind---say" the male voice sing-songed again. It was the voice from the answering machine. She could not believe that son-of-a-bitch was in her apartment. _Why oh why had she missed that plane to Bozeman?_ Her heart raced, her body broke out in a cold sweat and her knees went weak. _Calm down Lindsay. Keep him talking until you can think of some way out of this._

He was right behind her now and she could feel his tepid breathe on her neck. It made her skin crawl. He spoke again in the same soft menacing voice. "I had a great time with your little sister. It was totally unexpected but she was very sweet none the less." He paused to see what her reaction would be. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. _Keep him talking, Lindsay_. _Cold-blooded killers love to talk about their crimes. Interrogation 101!_

"I bet you're just as sweet." He trailed a finger along the back of her neck right inside the collar of her t-shirt. "I'm so glad you didn't go to Montana after all. Just gives us more time to get to know one another."

_How the hell did he know that? _Her mind raced. _Don't let him get to you, Lindsay. The only thing that matters now is survival._

This time he became a little bolder and placed his hands on her upper arms. That's all the incentive she needed. She leaned her head a little to the right and brought her left elbow up behind her as hard as she could and then lurched toward the door. She knew she had made contact with something behind her because she heard a crack. She hoped it was his nose. Before she could even get one lock undone however, he had wrapped one arm around her middle pinning her arms to her side and clapped the other over her mouth, whispering in her ear. "Oh you're feisty. I like that."

She brought her knees up to her chest and pushed off from the door sending them both to the ground. As they landed with a thud, he lost his grip. She took advantage of his loosened hold to scramble over to the counter and grab the wine bottles. Before she had a chance to turn and crack them over his head, he yanked her down by her ankles. She grabbed at one of the stools tucked under the counter bringing it to the floor with her. She quickly turned on her side and swung the stool in a wide arc down in the direction of the killer. She heard his surprised, "Ouch, you little bitch! You'll pay for that" and she knew he was losing his cool. She didn't have much time.

She scrambled on her hands and feet into the kitchen and hauled herself up against the counter. She yanked open a drawer pawing through it for anything to use as a weapon. She heard him crawling in after her. _"Hurry Lindsay, find something, anything,"_ she urged herself. He got up and lunged at her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her grandmother's cast iron skillet sitting on the stove. She dove out of his way, grabbed it, whirled around, and slammed it up against his head. _That's for Laurel you sick son-of-a-bitch_ as she heard a sickening thud. He hit the ground on his knees and she ran like the dickens to the door. The stool, that she had used to clock him just a second ago worked to her disadvantage this time as she tripped over it. Before she could get up again he was on top of her. He gave her a strong cuff on the jaw and everything started to spin.

"Alright little Miss Lindsay," he said smugly as he hauled her up and slung her over his shoulder. "I'm going to have to tie you down. You've become a little unruly."

Her head spinning, she struggled to maintain consciousness as he carried her to the bedroom and slung her down on the bed. _Fight Lindsay fight! Don't be his victim!_ She forced her eyes to focus. It was dark but with the city lights shining through the window she could see outlines in the room. He was kneeling beside the bed gathering something off the floor, maybe from a bag. She could run but she wouldn't make it to the door before he'd be on her again because he was between her and the door. She looked desperately to the other side of the bed for anything that she could use as a weapon. Her heart thumped when she saw the handle of the bat leaning up against her bed. She always kept it there for protection. She slowly inched her hand along the bed, careful not to make any movement or sound that would alert him of her intent. Her hand closed around the shaft just below the knob. She shifted the position of her hand slightly to get a better grip and slowly brought her other arm across her body to add to the grip. Her muscles tensed. _Wait Lindsay, wait for the right moment_.The killer stood up and she could see his face from the light through the window. There was a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his head and one dripped from his nose. _Good, she had gotten him on both swings._ The blood was mingling with the sweat trickling down his brow. His breathing was labored and she knew if she had one more chance she could probably immobilize him long enough to get out of the apartment. _This is Laurel's killer! He deserves this! Now Lindsay now! _She swung the bat as hard as she could and it whacked right across the side of his head. He groaned in pain and pitched forward onto the bed. She scrambled up and jumped right over him hitting the floor with a thud. She felt a pain shoot through her ankle.

All of sudden she heard the shuffle of feet coming down the hallway and a voice shouting, "NYPD freeze."

She thought it was Flack but she couldn't be sure so she put her hands in the air and said hoarsely, "Don't shoot! CSI Detective Lindsay Monroe"

"Lindsay," she heard a familiar voice shout and then running feet heading her direction.

"Oh my God, Danny," she said with relief as he gathered her in his arms. "Oh my God, he's here. I think I killed him. Oh my God." She kept babbling. It was the only thing she could do.

He snaked an arm under her knees and swung her up into a cradle hold. "Let's get you out of here," he said hoarsely.

A pain seared through her ankle as it knocked against the wall. "Ow, ow, ow," she moaned.

"Lindsay, where does it hurt?" he asked anxiously as he made his way carefully through the apartment.

"Ankle," she whispered into his neck.

"Alright, we'll get ya checked out soon," he reassured her.

When Danny emerged from the building with Lindsay, Mac and Stella were arriving.

"How is she?" they asked in unison.

"Alive but pretty battered. I'm taking her to the hospital." Danny replied shakily.

Mac and Stella exchanged looks. "Flack's already called the ambulance. They should be here any minute. Just hang tight Danny," Mac assured Danny.

"I don't need to go to the hospital. I need to sleep." Lindsay piped up weakly and then Danny felt her body go completely limp. He felt a sense of dread go through his body as he thought of his brother Louie already lying in a coma in the hospital.

"She needs help now! I'm taking her, there's no time to wait on an ambulance," Danny said frantically.

Mac put a hand on Danny's shoulder to calm him. "Danny, it's better to wait on the ambulance. Once they get here, the paramedics can stabilize her."

Danny looked at Mac imploringly, "But I can't…" _lose her_. He had finished the thought in his head because suddenly he became aware of her appearance. It had been dark in the apartment, dim in the hallway and he had been distracted out on the sidewalk when Mac and Stella had arrived. But now, forced to wait for the ambulance, he had no choice but to see the blood trickling from a gash on her forehead, the bruise forming along her jaw line, the deep scratch marks around her calves and ankles, the angry, red marks on her upper arms and wrists. Her body was light as a feather and he wondered how she had even made it out of the apartment alive. She must have put up one hell of a fight. How could anyone so tiny fend off an attacker almost twice her size? He couldn't help it as the tears began to flow down his cheeks. He buried his face in her hair whispering frantically into her ear, imploring her to stay with him. "Lindsay, stay with me… ya done good… we got the guy… I love you baby… I can't be in this life without ya here… you're the reason… don't go… wake up… wake up… wake up… please."

He didn't even hear the ambulance arrive. Mac and Stella pried him away from Lindsay so the paramedics could do their job. Stella held onto his arm as he watched helplessly while the paramedics loaded Lindsay into the ambulance and shut the doors.

"Come on give me your keys. I'll drive you to the hospital," Stella commanded.

As Danny turned to hand Stella the keys, he caught sight of Flack emerging from the building with the perpetrator in handcuffs. Danny's rage exploded and he lunged at the man, knocking him against the wall of the building and Flack to the ground. He started pummeling the guy with his fists shouting, "Ya sorry son-of-a-bitch. Why don't ya take on someone your own size for a change?" Flack and Mac dragged Danny off the guy. Danny was struggling against their hold but they held fast. "Ya aren't worth my time. I'll leave it to the guys in prison. They just love to mess up guys like you," Danny said viscously to the man.

"She was real sweet. I regret I didn't get to finish what I started with her." the perpetrator sneered at Danny as the uniformed officer led him away.

Danny tried again to lunge at the guy but Mac and Flack dragged him over to the SUV and deposited him roughly into the passenger seat.

"Cool off, man," Flack said firmly to Danny. "You're not going to be any use to Lindsay if you're in jail."

"That's right Danny," Mac joined in. "Violence is not the way to fix this. Let Stella get you to the hospital so you can be there for Lindsay. She needs you right now."

Danny shot one last venomous look at the squad car that contained the son-of-the-bitch, then slammed the door and barked at Stella, "Let's go."


	27. At The Hospital

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

At the Hospital

Stella had barely pulled into a parking spot at the hospital before Danny was out of the SUV and on his way into the ER. Stella quickly put it in park, yanked the keys out of the ignition and ran after Danny. This was her watch and she would be damned if she was going to let Danny out of her sight. She caught up to him at the check in desk.

"Detective Danny Messer," he clipped out as he flashed his badge to the matronly nurse behind the desk. "I'm looking for Detective Lindsay Monroe, an assault victim, brought in a few minutes ago."

Stella noticed the catch in his voice when he said assault victim but he was doing a commendable job of keeping his emotions under control at this point.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said soothingly as she realized quickly that the woman in question meant more to this haggard and anxious young man than merely as an assault case, "but all I can tell you is that she is alert, the doctor is in with her and doesn't want to be disturbed." To let him know the gravity of the situation she said softly, "They may have to run a rape kit."

Stella caught the complete look of horror that passed over Danny's face when he heard the words, rape kit. She quickly took his arm and led him over to some chairs and sat him down. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands in complete and utter disbelief.

"Danny," Stella said as she squatted in front of him, resting her hands on his knees to balance herself. "Danny, look at me," she said more firmly this time. He looked up her with tears in his eyes and anguish on his face. "She's a big girl, Danny. The worst is over. She beat that bastard at his own game and she doesn't want him to do it to anyone else. So she is gonna do everything in her power to see that he goes away cleanly for a long time and if that means a rape kit then that's what she'll do. She's keeping her wits about her, you have to keep your wits about you too. Okay?"

Danny nodded mutely as he sat back in the chair and ran his hands up and down his pants a few times. He crossed his arms over his chest, tipped his head back and blew heavily through his lips, his knee bouncing up and down compulsively.

The wait was excruciating. When Danny could no longer sit, he began pacing up and down in front of the row of chairs where Stella was seated. Stella caught sight of Mac and Flack coming through the ER doors and waved them over.

"How is she?" Mac asked Stella. He could tell that Danny was in no mood to talk.

"She's alert and they are checking her over. We haven't heard if they're going to have to do a rape kit yet or not."

"Are you guys here for Lindsay Monroe," said a fatherly-looking doctor who had come up behind the worried group.

Danny turned to the doctor quickly offering his hand, "Detective Danny Messer, how is she doc?"

The doctor shook his hand and said, "Well I have to say she is one tough little cookie and I think she is going to be fine. I want to keep her overnight just for observation, but she wasn't having any part of it until I cut a deal with her."

Everyone gave a little smile at this especially Danny. _She really was going to be okay_.

The doctor continued. "She is chomping at the bit to give her statement to a uh, uh Detective Flack."

"That's me," as Flack stepped forward.

"Okay good, you're here. Do what you have to do but afterwards I want her upstairs in a bed for the night. Victims say they're alright but there is always the aftermath when the shock wears off."

Then the doctor turned to the young detective who had his heart in his eyes and said a little more lightly, "Then she wants to see you Detective Messer." Danny's face flooded with relief and joy that he was going to see Lindsay. He didn't know if she was going to be mad or glad to see him but he didn't care.

The doctor nodded at Flack, "I'll take you back now."

Flack paused beside Danny and said, "I'll take care of her, you can trust me."

Danny nodded, "Just let her take her time."

Flack nodded in agreement and followed the doctor through swinging doors back to where the exam rooms were located.


	28. Taking The First Step

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Taking the First Step

Stella broke the silence by saying, "I'll grab us all some coffee." Mac nodded in agreement and Danny began his pacing routine again. He didn't know how long it would take Flack to get Lindsay's statement. He knew he wanted Lindsay to take as much time as she needed but man he needed to see her, to make sure she was really alright, to smell the springy scent of her hair, to hear her voice say his name, to look in to those deep, brown eyes of hers, to feel that radiant smile upon him, to have her arms around his neck and her lips upon his.

Stella returned with coffee. "One for everyone, strong and black."

Mac took the coffee from Stella and said wryly, "I hope you got him decaff," as he gestured his thumb in Danny's direction.

Stella smiled and handed Danny his coffee. Danny nodded his thanks and returned to his pacing.

Mac looked thoughtfully at Danny and summed up all the changes he'd seen in the young detective since he had come to work for him several years ago. Mac hired him as a top graduate from the academy with an eye for detail in the lab and unmatched street smarts that came from years of growing up in the tough neighborhoods on Staten Island. With a penchant for emotionality and a fierce dedication to the job, Daniel Messer gave it his all which sometimes landed him in trouble. Within the last year however he had matured and grown and Mac credited most of that change to Lindsay Monroe. With her subtle wit and congenial Midwestern manner, she quietly charmed and captivated the young detective. With her focused work in the lab and her willingness to do whatever the job required, she earned his respect and admiration. But where she wrought the most change was in her ability to reach beyond the rash and sometimes volatile behavior and touch the calm place within him. Most of the time he didn't even know this calm place existed yet she could bring it to the forefront. She was the polish for his rough edges and he was the pulse of vibrancy in her life. Yes, it was definitely a good paring in more areas than the lab.

Mac was brought out of his musings and Danny out of his pacing when Flack approached.

"We're finished," Flack said in a subdued manner. "The doctor has given her something to help her sleep and is moving her up to her room. He said you can go up and see her but it won't be long until she's out for the night or what's left of it."

Danny sighed deeply in relief and ran his hand through his hair as he said to Flack, "Did she come through it okay?"

"Yeah, Danny, she did real well, you'd be proud of her but she's extremely exhausted and I think the shock is beginning to wear off."

"Danny, why don't you go ahead up and we'll come up in a few minutes," Mac said.

As Danny made his way to Lindsay's room he thought about Lindsay revealing the details of her trauma to Flack. It must have been excruciatingly painful to relive the event so soon after it happened and even though she had done it in the line of duty to Flack, he hoped the next time she needed to unburden herself it would be to him.

When Danny arrived at Lindsay's room, the nurse was just leaving so he was able to slip in before the door closed. She wasn't aware that he was there yet so he was able to watch her for a few moments. He didn't think she was asleep yet but her eyes were closed and a soft light from the lamp played subtly across her face. The bruise on her jaw was even more pronounced now than before and there was a bandage on the cut on her forehead. She was lying on her side facing him, curled in a tight ball with the blankets pulled tightly around her. She looked so frail and forlorn and his heart ached.

Somehow she realized he was there because without opening her eyes, she said "Danny," in the most heart wrenching voice and in an instant he was by her bed. He took her outstretched hand in his and kissed the knuckles tenderly as he sat beside her on the bed. A tear rolled down her cheek and he gently stroked it away with his thumb.

"Hey Montana, open those gorgeous brown eyes of yours and look at me," he said half playfully and half desperately. He needed to see her eyes, to read her emotions and connect to her soul.

"I can't," she said with a catch in her voice.

He leaned in, cupped her chin with his free hand and stroked her cheek softly with his thumb. "Why not?" he asked softly.

She smelled his unique scent that made him Danny and felt his warm breath on her cheek. She felt her resistance melting away but she couldn't let go just yet. "Because if I do, I'll start crying and I'm afraid I'll never stop."

He chuckled softly. "Montana, there's nothing wrong with crying. In fact I've done a good bit of it myself tonight, but shhh… don't tell anyone. I'd hate for it to get around and tarnish my manly image."

At this she laughed softly and his heart did a little flip.

"So, what do you say?"

He waited. And with one sudden movement she had her arms around his neck and was sobbing uncontrollably into his neck. He still hadn't seen her eyes but her actions told him all he needed to know. His Montana had taken the first step on her way back to him!

-------------------------------------------------

When Mac and Stella peeked into Lindsay's room later on, they saw Danny lying on the bed next to Lindsay with his arm wrapped around her waist and their fingers interlaced.

"I guess everything's fine here, Stella," Mac said approvingly.

"Yeah, I think Danny's got it all under control," Stella said with a smile.

"To me, it looks more like Lindsay's got him wrapped around her little finger." Mac retorted quickly.

Stella laughed right out loud. And the two senior detectives left to catch some sleep of their own before their next shift started.

**Authors Note**: Do not think this is the end by any means so if want to hear the rest of the story please let me know. Good reviews always speak volumes!!


	29. Presumptuous

**Author's Note**: Ok, the readers have spoken and they want to hear more of the story! Here it is. Read away my lovelies.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Presumptuous

The next morning, Danny woke to the ringing of his cell phone. He couldn't remember where he was until he saw Lindsay sleeping peacefully beside him. How did she manage to look so delectable wrapped in hospital regulation blankets with a bandage on her forehead and that bruise along her jaw. It must be the way the dim light played across her face and her hair tangled wildly about her face. He wanted to press a kiss into her neck but he could tell by her deep and peaceful breathing that the phone hadn't stirred her and no matter what his desires were, she needed to sleep as long as possible. He groaned as the cell phone rang again and he sat into a sitting position with his legs hanging off the edge of the hospital bed.

"Messer," he said as he grabbed it off the bedside table and flipped it open.

"_Hey, sleepyhead,"_ joked Stella from the other end of the line.

"Oh man, what time is it?" he asked her groggily.

"_Ten_, _How is the sleeping beauty?"_ Stella replied way too brightly.

"She's still sleeping, compliments of a very potent sleeping pill." And then he groaned into the phone, "I'm so late for work."

He hopped off the bed and went into the hall so as not to disturb Lindsay with his conversation.

"_No you're not. Mac said you could have the day off to take care of Lindsay. He would have told you himself but he had an early meeting this morning and didn't want to wake you or Lindsay any earlier than necessary so he asked me to relay the message."_ Stella explained.

"Mac's a great guy. I have to thank him for this."

"_Yeah he is. Listen, I have your keys. I think you'll need them today."_

"Yeah, I was planning on going by Lindsay's to pick up some clothes and things for her so she wouldn't have to go to her apartment. I don't think she's ready for that yet."

"_I agree with you there but I don't have to be in until 12 so how about I run by and pack up some stuff for her. I have a good idea of what she needs."_

"That would be great Stella. Her key is on my key ring."

"_Alright see you in a bit."_

Danny peeked in on Lindsay who was still sleeping peacefully so he made his way down the hall in search of coffee.

When he arrived back Lindsay was just stirring. She opened her eyes and looked searchingly around the room, until her eyes came to rest on Danny. Relief washed over her face and she broke into a wide smile that could have brought the sun up if it hadn't ready risen hours ago.

"I was so worried it was just a dream and you weren't really here," she squeaked out and sat up gingerly in bed.

"Now Montana, do you think I am going to up and run when I've finally made it back into your bed? Do you know how long I've been waiting for that to happen?" he said with that disarming grin of his.

Even though the room was still dim, he could see the blush creep through her face. As long as he lived he would never tire of making her blush. But in turn she surprised him with her bold return.

"Oh just about as long as I've been waiting," she replied with a sly smile.

He chuckled at that. Yes he was glad to see that things were back on track, actually more on track than he hoped. He handed her the coffee and sat down on the bed beside her. They didn't speak for a very long time but sat in a comfortable silence each lost in their own thoughts, sipping the morning brew that the hospital called coffee and soaking up the presence of each other. There was no need for words.

Presently the fatherly-looking doctor from the wee hours of the morning poked his head in the door. "And how is my favorite detective this morning?"

"Just fine, Dr. Casey but I'm ready to get out of here" Lindsay replied without preamble.

Danny had hopped off the bed and was standing next to Lindsay. The doctor offered Danny his hand and as he shook it he said, "How are you Detective Messer?"

"Just fine, doc."

As the doctor dropped his hand, he pointed a finger at Danny, looked at Lindsay and said. "This young man was very worried about you last night? You're very lucky to have him in your corner."

"Yes, I know," she said gratefully as she shot Danny a smile.

"I will release you today if you assure me that you have someone that you can stay with for several days. I don't want you alone and I don't want you back at your apartment yet. Okay?"

"It's okay doc, she's gonna be staying with me and I'll keep an eye on her." Danny interjected. He noted Lindsay's raised eyebrows. He had intended to take her home with him ever since he saw her last night but he hadn't broached it with her yet. He hedged his bets. Surely with the doctor's backing giving him leverage, she couldn't argue with him, could she?

"Alright, I'll hold you to that," the doctor replied shaking Danny's hand again.

"And you, Detective Monroe, give yourself time to heal. It's important for you do that," warned the doctor.

"I can't thank you enough Dr. Casey, you've been wonderful throughout the whole ordeal." Lindsay said gratefully.

"Okay I'll get your paperwork started and you should be good to go in a couple of hours,"

After the doctor left, Lindsay looked at Danny with her eyebrows raised. "Rather presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

Danny planted his legs hip width apart and crossed his arms over his chest in a characteristically challenging position. "Presumptuous?" he questioned. Do you have a better plan?"

"No, I just want to be consulted first about decisions regarding myself, that's all." Lindsay said pointedly.

"Okay, Montana," he said rolling his eyes slightly, "will you pleeeeasssseeee come stay at my apartment for the next few days and let me take care of you or do I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you there myself?" he said with a smirk.

But as soon he said that last part he saw her face drain and her eyes go vacant.

He rushed to her, put his hands on her shoulders and tried to capture her eyes with his. "Lindsay, I'm sorry, whatever it is that triggered you, I'm sorry. I'm right here." He picked up one of her hands and kissed it tenderly.

She finally met his eyes, licked her lips, took a deep breath and then closed her eyes. He could hear the quiver in her breath as she let it out slowly. Then she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms tightly around them and laid her face on her knees as if to protect herself from the world. "No, I'm sorry, what you said about _sling over your shoulder…_," she could barely say the words, "it put me back there with him and I…"

"It's okay," he said soothingly as put his arms around her. He felt her lean into him and grip one of his arms tightly with both of her hands. As he rubbed her back he felt her relax. _Okay Messer, be careful, she's still gotta work through all this trauma._


	30. Stella

**Author's Note**: Another one of my favorite chapters. Little gems of wisdom about life that I've had to learn along the way. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Stella

"Hey you two," said Stella as she poked her head around the door.

Before Danny turned around to greet Stella, he looked down at Lindsay and caught her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, thanks."

"We'll talk later okay?"

She nodded.

"Hey Stella," Danny greeted her.

"Anyone in here a size 2 and in need of some street clothes?" inquired Stella cheerfully.

Lindsay greeted Stella with a great big smile and a hug after Stella pulled the rolling suitcase over to the bed.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing alright, you know a little sore." Lindsay said and dropped her eyes a bit.

Stella was just the person she needed to talk to. She needed Danny out of here though.

"Danny, could you run and get us a couple sodas, please?"

Stella exchanged a look with Danny and nodded him off.

"Cuppla sodas comin' right up," he replied and walked out of the room.

"So what gives," Stella asked as she caught Lindsay's eye.

"Stella," Lindsay began haltingly. "I'm so unsure of myself and… what to do about..."

"What to do about what?" Stella encouraged as she sat on the bed facing Lindsay.

"Danny wants me to stay with him at his apartment and I want too so badly. But I'm not sure I can give him what he expects. I'm… I'm not even sure what he expects." Lindsay trained her eyes worriedly on Stella.

"Lindsay, I don't think Danny expects anything from you, except for you to get better. He wants to be there for you and help you work through this. If you could have seen how frantically worried he was about you last night, you'd know that." Stella reassured Lindsay.

Lindsay nodded with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to screw this up with my issues; I don't know if I can handle it. When I was joking around with him earlier, he said something that triggered me back to last night and I didn't know if I was going to come out of it without breaking down. It was so unnerving."

Stella licked her lips nervously. She was venturing into territory that hit close to home for her. "You know, Lindsay, you've been given a gift."

"What?" Lindsay asked in surprise.

"Sure, some monster accosted you in your home but you know what, you survived." Stella's voice was becoming a little emotional now. "And not only that, but the person who attacked you was some stranger, not someone who you loved and trusted. You haven't had your world shattered in that way. The person who cares about you most is still here, willing to be by your side and help you through this. I say, don't turn away from him but run toward him as fast and hard as you can and don't ever look back."

Lindsay was staring at Stella now and registering what she was saying. She saw the tears in Stella's eyes about to spill over and she leaned forward impulsively to hug Stella. "Stella, I'm so sorry, you're right. I never thought of it in that way. And I am so sorry to bring those memories back up for you," referring to Stella's previous so-called boyfriend who had beaten and held Stella captive in her own apartment until she had managed to free herself and fatally shoot him."

"That's okay," Stella said as she drew back and wiped her tears from her eyes with her index finger.

"I guess you never really get over the trauma do you?"

"No you don't. I'd be lying if I said you did. All you can do is move forward from here in a positive way and don't let this event define _you_ for the rest of your life."

"I'm just so scared." Lindsay said with tremulous sigh. "It seems like there are reminders everywhere."

"There are now, but once you begin to deal with it, you'll become stronger and the reminders will lessen."

"Stella, maybe I should stay with you. You know so much about it."

"Lindsay, I'll be here whenever you need to talk, but I think you need to be with Danny. Frankly he needs you as much as you need him. Don't shut him out. Take it as slow as you need to, but don't shut him out, let him in as often as possible. That man has a heart of gold and he's offering it up to you on a silver platter. If you really care about him, like I think you do, then you'll take it with all the love you have in your heart and then some."

"Okay," Lindsay said through the tears in her eyes. Stella was right. Fear was not the base emotion from which to operate your life.

"Now go shower and get dressed. I've got to get to work and I hear somewhere in this hospital there is a handsome young detective waiting to take you home with him." Stella added playfully with a wink.

"Thanks, Stella," Lindsay said gratefully as she gave Stella one last hug and hopped her way to the bathroom dragging the suitcase behind her.

_There was a handsome young detective waiting to take her home with him wasn't there!_ _I'm going home with Danny Messer, _she sing-songed in her mind.

When Lindsay emerged from the bathroom, a half an hour later, Danny was sitting in a chair waiting and Stella was gone. He looked at her as she hopped over to him on her one good foot. He noted she had those same form fitting yoga pants and zip up jacket she had worn in her apartment when he had made her dinner. Her face still looked pale but her eyes were shining brightly and he never realized how wavy her hair was when she was fresh out of the shower.

When she reached him, he stood up. She was just inches from him and he could smell the fresh scent of soap. He never knew the smell of soap could be so intoxicating. He held his breath expectantly and she took his hands in hers. With that sweet smile that never failed to make his heart flip she said softly, "Let's go home."


	31. Danny's Apartment

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Danny's Apartment

When Danny finally found a parking spot near his apartment, Lindsay was in a flutter. They had made small talk on the drive from the hospital but so many things were running through her mind. She had never been more aware of him than in the close confines of the SUV. She had to keep herself from staring at those bulging biceps and long fingers gripping the steering wheel. The biceps alone were unnerving enough, but those sensual fingers… She could just imagine them floating across her skin. She could see the quads flex and release through the fabric of his jeans as he switched from the gas pedal to the brake and back again maneuvering through the afternoon traffic. She wanted to slide her hand up his thigh and rest it in the crook of his leg. If it were a of couple weeks ago, before all this had happened, she would have. But right now her confidence in her ability to handle it with him without being triggered back to the past haunted her. Surely there couldn't be a worse turnoff, she thought, than for someone to freak out on you in the throes of passion because they were having traumatic flashbacks.

"Ya ready, Montana?" Danny had opened her door and was squatting down with his back to her.

"What?" she giggled. "I get to ride."

"Yup," he said with a small grunt as she climbed onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"Oh come on, I can't be that heavy," she teased him lightly as he rose with a small groan. He grabbed the handle of her suitcase, kicked the door shut with his foot and began walking towards his apartment.

"No, ya aren't, actually you're as light as a feather but I'm starvin' here. I can't remember when I've had a substantial amount to eat."

"Oops, I guess you're right, I could use a little food too," she said and her stomach rumbled in agreement.

She was starting to slide a bit down his back so she hitched herself back up with her arms and instinctively tightened her thighs around his waist. She heard the quick intake of his breath. This was having an effect on him, she noted with pleasure. Impulsively she kissed his collar bone. She felt his arms tighten around her legs in response.

"Montana, I gotta warn ya, there is only one thing that trumps food when I'm this hungry and unless ya want me to show ya what that is when we reach my apartment ya better start behavin' yourself." Danny growled.

She absolutely loved it when he growled her name. It sent little shivers up and down her spine and made her tummy tingle. But since she was still wavering in her confidence in being with him, and she knew he knew that, she decided she better change the subject. She knew he would never take advantage of her, so it wouldn't be fair of her to tease him too much in this situation. One thing Lindsay Monroe was not, was a tease.

"So what do you want to eat?" she asked and then realizing the possible implications of her question, she added quickly, "I mean what kind of food?"

He chuckled, "It doesn't matter, I'm easy," and he _didn't_ clarify the implications of his last comment.

When he set her down in his apartment, she looked around. It was sparse but everything was of high quality from the long leather sofa to the high definition TV, stereo equipment against the wall and racks of CD's and DVD's lined up beside the entertainment equipment. _He certainly had high end taste_. He disappeared for a moment down a hallway with her suitcase and came back empty-handed.

"Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?" he said as he went into the kitchen and came out with a pile of takeout menus. She wasn't about to make any smart comments about him not being able to cook because she knew he could from that night in her apartment.

"Water"

"In the fridge, help yourself," as he motioned to the kitchen.

So is pizza okay?" he called out to her as she hopped her way into the kitchen.

"Sure," and anticipating his next question, "I like just about everything… no anchovies though." She looked around the kitchen. It was the average kitchen, cabinets, fridge, stove, microwave and automatic coffee maker, again very sparsely furnished. She retrieved the water and went to sit on the couch beside Danny as he ordered the pizza.

"Thirty minutes," he said as he clicked the phone shut. No sooner had he turned to speak to her than the phone rang again. He picked it up and looked at the caller id questioningly. The he said, "Oh, right" to himself.

He flipped the phone open and took a deep breath and said, "Detective Messer."

This must be important Lindsay thought because she knew Danny rarely answered the phone that way. Usually it was either _Messer_ or _Hey_. Lindsay held her breath worried that it might news about the perpetrator that attacked her last night. She didn't want to hear about that right now.

"Oh hello, Mrs. Monroe, how are you doing?" Danny said quite charmingly into the phone.

Lindsay's eyes went wide and she mouthed _what?_ at Danny.

He smiled at her and was nodding his head as he listened to the response from the other end of the phone.

"No, no, she's okay. She misplaced her cell phone at a crime scene last night and it hasn't been recovered yet so that's why you weren't able to get in touch with her."

He nodded again.

"Well, she's right here if you want to speak with her now."

Lindsay let out an exaggerated sigh through pursed lips as Danny handed her the phone.

"Hi mom"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine."

"No, it's just been really busy. I know, I know, I couldn't help the trip being cancelled, kinda last minute work thing you know…" Lindsay trailed off.

"Okay, you too. Hey is Daddy there?"

"Hey Daddy" her voice brightened considerably.

"I'm doing real good." Danny raised his eyebrows at this point. _Tell them_ he mouthed. She waved him off with her hand.

"uh huh, Daddy I have to tell you something," her voice became rather small almost like a little girl's voice. And Danny saw her eyes start to fill with tears. He scooted right up next to her on the couch and slid a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Um, I haven't heard if it's official yet but I think Laurel's murderer was taken into custody last night."

"We're waiting on the DNA results to confirm it but we're relatively certain."

"Um… um…" she took a shaky breath, "in my apartment last night." By now the tears were falling like a waterfall and Danny pulled her close into the crook of his shoulder and closed his hand around her hand.

"Yeah, I'm okay, really, I'm okay, just a couple of bruises and scratches," Lindsay took her hand from Danny's to wipe her eyes but he kept his arm around her.

She regained some of her composure. "I don't really have anymore information than that right now. Daddy I'm really tired. Can I call you tomorrow and we can talk some more then?"

"I will. You'll tell mom won't you. I love you too." Lindsay almost whispered. She was so shaken by the conversation, she handed the phone blindly to Danny as tears filled her eyes once more.

She immediately wound her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He gently lifted her onto his lap and wound his arms around her and rested his chin against her hair. No words were necessary he just held her as she released her emotion into his chest.

When the crying abated enough for her to look at him, she drew back and whispered, "I'm sorry, your shirt's all wet again."

He grinned. "Not a problem Montana," he said as he deftly criss-crossed his arms to either side of his waist and pulled it up and off in one fluid motion and tossed the shirt down the hallway and out of sight. She loved how his arm muscles rippled when he did that.

Oh God, she thought as she stared at the outline of his chest through the thin material of his tank top.

She must have had some kind of expression on her face, because he bent his head to catch her eyes. "Ya okay?"

"Um… um," she stammered as she quickly licked her lips and looked up at him. "Just peachy," she added in a small voice.

"Just peachy?" he grinned at her. "Is that something they say in the country?" Oh now he was just teasing her. Well two could play at that game. She held his eyes with her own as she touched him lightly with one of her index fingers at the point right above his belt buckle and gave him a _right back at ya!_ look as she began a slow trace up the middle of his stomach. He looked down at her finger and she watched him watching her finger.

_Damn Montana!_ _How could one little finger cause so much heat to rise in his body?_ It felt like a trail of fire following the wake of her finger. She continued right up to the hollow in his neck where she made a hard left turn to follow his collar bone. His hands tightened instinctively on her hip and he leaned his head back against the couch.

She could no longer see his face so she shifted her weight, slowly easing a knee to either side of his legs. She barely felt the pain shoot through her ankle as she did this. She settled herself gently in his lap. She saw him close his eyes and heard him let out a small groan. She began tracing around the contours of his face but not before removing his glasses and laying them carefully on the arm of the couch. She made her way tantalizingly over one eyebrow then the other, down the ridge of his nose and around the edge of his lips. _Those lips._ She was going to kiss them, no two ways about it. As she gently placed her lips to his, a loud buzzer sounded alerting them to the pizza guy downstairs and they both gave a start. He lifted his head and looked completely dazed like he didn't know what day it was or what planet he was on and Lindsay felt guilty as hell for teasing him like that when she had just reminded herself moments ago that it wasn't fair to him. But she just couldn't help herself. Ever since he had come to her in the hospital room last night she had felt such a sense of peace, safety and belonging with him that made her only want to get closer to him in every possible way. She didn't know exactly what she was doing here but she knew there was no other place she wanted to be than to be with him.

She used his shoulders for leverage as she lifted herself off of him and hopped around on one foot to regain her balance. She held out her hand to him to help him off the couch but when he grabbed it he pulled her down close to his face and whispered hoarsely into her ear, "Thanks to that little interlude, Montana, I'm not going anywhere for a few minutes." With his free hand, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "You'll have to get the pizza."

"What?" she said in mock horror, "send a maimed and battered woman to do a man's job," but in reality she was quite pleased that she had had that effect on him_. The teasing, Lindsay, watch the teasing_. Although she still couldn't help but smile a little to herself.

"I'm sure you can handle the pizza guy, Montana," he said with a grimace as he dropped his head back against the couch and focused his thoughts on ice.


	32. Telling All

**Author's Note**: Due to the &)$) fan fic server, I doubt that any of you faithful readers are getting my comments to your reviews. I have been replying faithfully and hopefully when is fixed you'll receive them. In the meantime, I **appreciate** and **am grateful** for all your comments and encouragement on this story. I love it when you have specifics that you like and you tell me about them. It helps me to write the next chapters. So without further author blubbering, here is a sweet chapter for you die hard D/L fans. BTW my husband's first intial is D and mine is L. Can you not believe the sweetest and coincindence in that?

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Telling All

After she placed the pizza boxes on the coffee table, she hopped into the kitchen to grab plates, napkins and drinks. She hopped back into the living room, laid the plates and napkins on the table and handed a beer to Danny. She noticed he had sufficiently recovered enough to tear into the pizza. "Mfhanks," he mumbled through a mouthful of pizza. She hopped into the kitchen to get some ice. Her ankle was throbbing in earnest now.

"Montana, what are you doing in there?" he yelled to her when he heard the ice chinking into the plastic bag.

"Getting ice for my ankle."

"Damn," she heard him swear. "Here let me help you," he said as he came into the kitchen, picked up her up and carried her back into the living room. He set her down on the couch and backed up to sit on the coffee table across from her. He took her ankle in his hand and brought it up to his lap. He pushed back the yoga pants leg and surveyed the bruising and swelling around her ankle with his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers gently explored the area.

"Ow," she winced when he touched a particularly swollen area.

"Sorry" he mumbled. Now he was looking at the red scratches running from her calves and shins downwards, disappearing into the bruising and swollenness of her ankle.

"Damn, Lindsay," he swore angrily, "what did this son of a bitch do to you?" He was looking at her imploringly now. He wanted to know.

She wanted to tell him, needed to tell him but didn't know if she had the strength to do it. All of a sudden she was so exhausted, what with the attack, the statement to Flack, the hospital stay, being in Danny's apartment, the conversation with her parents, not to mention the intense flirting. She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. Danny knew by now that when she closed her eyes like that her mind was churning and she needed time, so he waited patiently. When she opened her eyes again, he was still staring at her waiting for an answer, but his face was much softer.

"Okay, I'll tell you but I have to eat something first."

"Right, sorry," he said as he collected himself. "Give me the ice," he commanded. He kept her foot in his lap and arranged the bag of ice gently around her swollen ankle. He then reached across the coffee table and pulled the pizza boxes over to him, grabbed a slice for Lindsay put it on a plate and handed it to her with a napkin.

After they demolished most of the pizzas, Lindsay took the ice off her ankle, carefully lifted it off Danny's lap and propped it up on a pillow on the couch. She pulled her pants leg back down to cover all the scratches and bruises. She didn't really want to look at it. It was going to be hard enough to tell Danny without having to see visible reminders of the trauma. The ones playing in her head were traumatic enough. Danny settled himself on the couch next to the pillow that contained her swollen ankle and leaned towards her with his arm along the back of the couch.

She began shakily, "I don't know quite where to start."

"At the beginning," which he realized when he said it, that it sounded kind of lame, like when someone asks you where you want to eat and you say wherever. So he tried again, "How about why you didn't get on the plane to Montana?"

"Actually that was quite by accident. I was so distracted that morning from the talk with Mac and our fight that when I got in the taxi I must have given the driver the address of my apartment. I didn't even realize where we were going until we were there. By that time it was too late to catch the flight. Anyway I was exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically and I wanted to block everything out."

He nodded, remembering the fight vividly, which reminded him to ask Lindsay whether Mac had cleared up that little issue with her on his behalf or not. But he realized this wasn't the best time to bring it up.

She paused. "So what did you do to block out everything?" he asked encouraging Lindsay to continue.

"I got into a tub full of hot water and bubbles," she said and looked down at her hands sheepishly.

He smiled slightly at this... _for me it would take a whole bottle of..._

"And downed a whole bottle of red wine," she looked up him with a look on her face that said _please don't think less of me_.

"Damn Lindsay, I'm surprised you didn't get sick."

"Oh, I did… royally! But only after I slept away the afternoon. I don't actually remember much between when I began drinking and when I woke up late in the afternoon, except the cell phone ringing sometime in there," she was shaking her head trying to put it all into order but Danny had a feeling this was not the most significant part and subconsciously she was stalling.

"Okay, so you drank a little wine, got a little sick, loss of memory… No big deal we've all done that now and then." He noted the look on her face that said _speak for yourself, buddy_.

"After I woke up and went through the involuntary purge, I started drinking very strong coffee and eating saltines. I stared at the TV for what seemed like hours then I decided to do at least one productive thing for the day and went downstairs to get my mail."

He noticed her eyes start to glaze.

She continued in a faraway voice, "It was chock full of mail. I'd been so busy the past few days with the case and all, I couldn't remember the last time I checked it. I came back into the apartment and locked the door and…," she took a deep breath, "and he was behind me saying my name in that weird sing-song way and I struggled to keep from panicking. I knew if I panicked I'd wind up dead for sure."

"How did you know it was him, I mean Laurel's killer?" Danny asked softly. He didn't want to ask too many questions but he also didn't want her to recess too much into her mind and run the risk of hysteria and shutdown.

At his question, her eyes filled with tears and began to fall in earnest when she replied, "He said how sweet she was."

Danny felt her anguish over this as he remembered the son of a bitch saying the same thing to him about Lindsay when Flack brought him out in handcuffs. He was double glad that he had pummeled the guy like he did.

Lindsay drew her knees up to her face, wrapped her arms around them and sobbed in earnest.

_Damn, he didn't have any tissues in the house_. _Why did he think they could get through this without tissues? _So he did the next best thing, he ran to the bathroom to get a roll toilet paper. _Classy Messer!_

Lindsay felt him leave the couch and whisk by her. _Oh shit, he's realizing he doesn't want to deal with this or me or me dealing with this_. Her mind starting racing wildly, trying to figure out what to do when he kicked her out. _Where was she going to go?_ She was wiping her eyes and getting up off the couch when Danny returned.

"Hey, hey, whooooaaaa Montana, where ya goin'?" Danny asked.

"Look I know you don't want to deal with this or me and you shouldn't have to so I'm going to get out of here and let you be," she said as she tried to balance on her one good foot. No good, she toppled back onto the couch. Danny plopped down beside her.

"Look, I got you something to dry your eyes with, seeing as all my shirts are wet," he said holding out the roll of toilet paper encouraging her to take it.

She smiled sheepishly and swiped the roll of toilet paper from him.

Good, she didn't have to laugh, just stay this side of complete breakdown that's all, he thought to himself

He gave her time to regain her composure. She turned sideways on the couch again, drew her knees back up to her chest and tucked her toes under his thigh. Her toes felt like miniature popsicles. He would have put them between his hands to warm them up but he didn't want to distract her, hell who was he kidding he didn't want to distract himself. Damsels in distress were not his M.O. but there was something about Lindsay that spoke to his heart no matter what role she was in.

She finally continued, "I tried to keep him talking, to give myself time to think of a way out. But when he put his hands on my upper arms," and she wrapped her arms instinctively around herself, "I back-elbowed him in the nose and tried to get the door unlocked but I wasn't fast enough and he grabbed me around the waist pinning my arms to my side, as he clapped a hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. I couldn't stand his hands on me and all I could think was how can I make him let go of me. So I pushed off from the door with my feet and he lost his balance and fell backwards with me on top of him, which was just enough for him to let me go. I tried to get up and grab something off the counter, anything, to try to use as a weapon but he grabbed my ankles and dragged me back down to the floor. I managed to grab the stool on the way down and clobber him a good one; that's when he got mad and I knew I didn't have much time."

At this point Lindsay's widened eyes were glazed again and her breathing was ragged. She wasn't seeing anything outside of herself only the scenes that were playing in her mind as she relived the attack.

Danny clasped one of her hands to help bring her back. "It's okay, just take your time."

She looked at him, blinked and the glaze started to recede. She interlaced her fingers through his and continued. "I scrambled into the kitchen and dug through a drawer trying again to find anything to use as a weapon and he lunged at me but I dodged him and grabbed the skillet off the stove and clocked him in the side of the head."

Danny mentally cheered her. His Montana could street fight.

"This time I ran like hell for the door but I tripped over that damn stool," her voice broke when she said that last part and her eyes filled with tears again.

"Ya alright?" he said squeezing her hand in support.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," she said as she tore off a big wad of toilet paper and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath. "That's when he caught me on the jaw," she said as she absentmindedly passed her hand over the bruise along her jaw line. The he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and I remember telling myself to stay conscious… if I blacked out it would all be over."

Danny winced when he heard this. He remembered the comment he had made at the hospital earlier in the day about slinging her over his shoulder. God he hoped he was going to be more of a help than a hindrance. Did he really know what he was doing here?

"When he threw me down on the bed I frantically searched the room for anything to use as a weapon. He was busy with something on the floor but I knew I didn't have long before his attention would be back on me. That's when I saw the bat leaning up against my bed. You know _'the bat'_?" she looked at him knowingly.

"Yeah I remember," he confirmed. He did indeed remember that the bat had been kind of a gag present, from everyone in the group, for Lindsay on her birthday. She had only been in New York for a few months then, and Stella thought it would be a nice gesture to help Lindsay feel more like a part of the group. He remembered when Stella had brought it up and he had commented, rather wise-assed, _'How 'bout a bat to protect herself with?​'_. Everyone had actually thought it was a good idea and Stella had charged him with getting a bat. I mean after all she said, who knew baseball equipment better than he. He had planned on going to a sporting goods store to buy her a run of the mill bat until he happened to come across some old practice bats in the back of his closet and decided to use one of those. Among them he found a bat that he had used when he was just a kid and his summer team had won a recreational league championship. It had been one of the highlights of his young life and he slept with that bat for years afterwards. The bat was smaller than regulation size, so he thought it would be easy for Lindsay to handle. It was made of quality, durable wood, unlike a lot of bats today. He didn't know why he did it but he spent an hour sanding the peeling varnish off the bat. Then he carefully inscribed in big letters, 'For Your Protection' and sprawled his signature right below. The next day he had secretly brought it into work and everyone signed it. Then he put on a couple coats of varnish and tied a big red bow around it. Lindsay had been totally surprised and touched when they presented it to her. She gave everyone a hug. When she hugged him she whispered in his ear, "Thanks Danny, You did a really great job on it. I love it!" At the time he wondered how she knew but he didn't asked. _Maybe now he would._

This time it was Lindsay's turn to bring Danny back to the present, "Danny?"

"Um, um, the bat… what did you do with the bat?" he blinked at her.

"I waited until he was in the right position and then I swung it into the side of his head," Lindsay said looking at Danny like, _what did you think I did with it?_

"Then I jumped over him and twisted my ankle as I hit floor. That's when you and Flack came in."

He noticed she had finished on a strong note, not a tear in her eyes.

He couldn't help but look at her with tenderness and pride, tenderness for all that she had been through and pride for how she had fought her way out of there. She caught his look and suddenly became very shy and dropped her head.

He put his hand along her bruised jaw line and stroked it rhythmically with his thumb. He tipped her head up to look at him. "Do you know, Montana, that there is nothing more attractive to me than a woman who can take care of herself but will let herself be taken care of by a man?" Actually he hadn't known that about himself until the moment he said it. He was sure he hadn't ever wanted to take care of anyone before except Louie, but Louie was his brother and all.

Lindsay's breath caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears again.

"Damn Montana, you're not supposed to cry at that," he said with a playful groan as he wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumbs. He didn't remove his hands from either side of her face after wiping her tears.

"But it is absolutely the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," she squeaked out as the tears began to fall again.

_Okay that's it, she looks so incredibly sweet and vulnerable and hot all at the same time; he was going to kiss her. Forget the 'wait 'til she's over this trauma to make a move on her' pact he had made with himself on the ride from the hospital to his apartment!_

He leaned into her and pulled her face toward him at the same time and when their lips touched, the world disappeared completely. The tingle that shot from his stomach down to his groin and into his legs was that torturous, pleasurable kind of pain. She was responding to him with equal passion and he knew he wanted to get as close to her as quickly as possible so he shifted his weight.

"Ow, ow, ow," Lindsay flinched and shrieked at the same time. He jumped up quickly when he realized he had put his whole weight on her sprained ankle.

"Oh my God, Lindsay, I'm so sorry," he panted worriedly as he quickly checked her ankle.

She flopped her head back against the arm of the couch and rolled her eyes into the back of her head from the pain and groaned, "Jeez, Danny, you're supposed to be taking care of me not putting me back on the fast track to the hospital." Then she let out a huge sigh as the pain abated. She looked at his startled expression and started laughing so hard she couldn't stop.

At first he was a little miffed. Why couldn't he ever be smooth around her? But then he joined in because he figured a laughing Montana was much better than a crying one or even yet an angry one. Besides with that sprained ankle, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. This could get really interesting and he found himself looking forward to the whole adventure.


	33. In Danny's Bed

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

In Danny's Bed

After the laughter calmed to intermittent giggles on Lindsay's part, Danny left the couch to retrieve another ice pack for her ankle.

"I'm gonna have another beer. How 'bout you?"

She tipped her head back and looked thoughtfully up at him, "Do you have any wine?"

He went into the kitchen and rummaged around. "No," he called back, "Just beer." He really did need to pick up some groceries.

He walked back into the living room with a beer in his hand and perched himself on the back of the couch. "This is the last one so we'll have to share."

She looked at him a little suspiciously and said, "Okay, but I get first swallow."

"What? Why is that?" he asked a little confused.

"Because the first swallow is the coldest, purest, and most tasteful drink of the whole beer."

"Obviously, but I still don't understand why you should get first swallow?" he challenged.

She stared at him a second longer before she completely disarmed him by placing her hand gently on his thigh, widening her eyes innocently and whispering, "Please."

He wordlessly handed the beer over to her. She smiled innocently, holding his eyes as she took a large swallow and handed it back to him. He shook his head at her, grinned, took an even bigger swallow and handed the beer back to her. And so it went, back and forth, until the beer was drained, not saying a word, but with each pass the swallows became bigger and bigger. The last swallow was hers and she relished the look on his face as she rhythmically swirled it around in the bottle before she put it to her lips and slowly tipped it all the way back and let the liquid glide gently down her throat, making tiny sucking sounds on the bottle. Sharing a beer with a woman had never been such a complete turn-on. _Who the hell was this wanton little wench and what had she done with his sweet Montana? No wait, it didn't matter what she did with that sweet Montana chic, it just became paramount that he find a way to keep **this** wanton little wench around well after her ankle healed. Think Messer, think very hard, you got about three days, five tops, before she'll be able to walk out of here on her own two feet! _

After she handed the empty bottle back to him, she leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. "I am so tired," she murmured. "Where's my bed, Cowboy?"

"Oh right, sleep," he said, as he pulled himself back to the practical matters at hand. He came around the couch and slid his arms around her back and under her knees and carried her to his bedroom. She never said a word, just snuggled into his chest. He held her handily with one arm as he pulled the covers back and laid her gently on the bed.

She reached up and laid her hand along his cheek and sleepily stroked the stubble on his chin with her thumb. "You're not going to leave me in here alone are you?" she asked.

"No way, Montana, I just have to go lockup. If you aren't too sleepy, the bathroom's right through there and here's your suitcase. I'll give you a few minutes, okay?"

"Mmmm," was her only reply. When he left, she forced herself out of the bed to go into the bathroom and brush her teeth. Anything else could wait until tomorrow, she thought, as she dropped her yoga pants and jacket to the floor and crawled back into bed.

When Danny joined her a few minutes later, she was breathing deep and heavy. The day had taken its toll on her and also on him. So he did his customary thing with her and slid in behind her and molded his body along hers. He couldn't help running his hand up her thigh before reaching her waist. _Damn her, she has no shorts on, only underwear. __She is going to do me in without even trying and before I ever actually get to be with her._ _Okay, double damn her_. She instinctively nestled back into his groin as his hand slid around her waist to rest along her stomach. But this time he couldn't resist resting it under her shirt next to her skin. One of her hands joined his there and it interlaced with his fingers. He thought sleep would be impossible but with the events of the previous 24 hours and the 11/2 beers (even though he was convinced Lindsay had cheated and got more than ½ of that last beer) he was out in no time.

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Danny awoke the next morning a few minutes before the alarm went off. He looked at Lindsay, completely sprawled out across his bed. For such a small person she sure could take up a lot of room. In reality he didn't mind. It just meant that he had to sleep that much closer to her to keep from being pushed to the edge of the bed. As always, her hair was tangled wildly about her face and her breathing was deep and even. He swore even her breathing could turn him on. He quickly dropped a kiss on her exposed shoulder and climbed out of the bed. That's all he trusted himself to do. A very cold shower was in order.

As he showered, he worried about Lindsay. Even though she had slept relatively well, there were times throughout the night when she had started murmuring and twitching. It probably would have escalated if he hadn't been there each time to stroke his hand along her body and whisper reassuringly in her ear that he was there and it was all a dream. She never actually woke up but her restlessness would cease until the next episode. He worried about her being alone today. Maybe someone at the lab would be off today, who he could send by to check on her or better yet maybe he could sneak in a long lunch and check on her himself.

When he emerged from the shower to get dressed, Lindsay had curled back into a ball on his side of the bed with her face buried into his pillow, which she clutched in her arms and legs. Instinctively, he wanted to crawl back into bed with her and replace the pillow with himself. He wished he had today off so he could spend another day just being in her presence. He wished she was all better so he could do all the things to her that he had been dreaming of for months now. He wished… _Stop wishin' Messer, or you're gonna need another cold shower!_

He dropped his towel to get dressed and swore he heard a little squeak almost like a mouse but not quite. He turned around to look at Lindsay but she was still curled in a ball with her eyes closed. Maybe some mousetraps were in order. He shrugged, quickly finished dressing and threw the towel towards the bathroom. When he saw Lindsay's clothes on the floor beside the bed he absentmindedly picked them up and laid them on the end of the bed. She shouldn't have to live out of a suitcase, he thought to himself, so he quickly cleared out two drawers by stowing the contents in a basket in the closet. It didn't really matter where his socks and underwear lived anyway, a basket was as good as a drawer any day.

He scribbled a note to Lindsay, locked up and headed out into the early morning hours, into a city that never slept.

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Oh my god, was all Lindsay could think when Danny had dropped his towel. She barely suppressed a squeak and closed her eyes before she felt his eyes upon her. _Damn Lindsay, if he catches you enjoying a peep show, with him as the star, you'll never hear the end of it!_ She swore she didn't breathe again until she heard him lock the door on his way out, even though she did open her eyes and watch him get dressed. _Oh he was hot! _Really too hot to describe in words, but she had the image of him burned into her mind now. The muscles on him were so well defined, not in a massive body builder way but in a lean, athletic way. His shoulders curved and dipped into his bulging biceps which in turn, flowed into his powerful forearms then finally tapered into those long sensual fingers. She loved his fingers. She knew from his finesse in the lab that he would be able to elicit all sorts of pleasurable torture across her body with those fingers. A shudder went through her body just thinking about it. And that was just the part of him she had seen before. The rest of his body absolutely took her breath away. His broad muscled back tapered into a waist that didn't have a spare ounce of flesh on it. And his ass was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. What woman wouldn't want to grab that. When he turned slightly to pull on his boxers, she saw the slight hollow in his hip that screamed _well toned body_. Her eyes traveled down the long hard length of his thigh to focus on the bulge of his quadriceps as they flexed, when he bent his knees to pull on his boxers. As the boxers passed over his lower legs she saw his calves clench and release, in order to balance himself. If she had glimpsed at a full frontal view of him, she would have come long and hard on the spot as her insides were already quivering at the sight of him. From here on out she would never be able to use the words 'Danny' and 'body' in the same sentence without also including the word 'magnificent'.

With the image of Danny's magnificent body in her mind and his scent all over the pillow in which she had her face buried, she drifted back into sleep. _Danny was with her once more touching her in the most delicious ways and saying her name in the most sensual manner but then his voice changed to a sing-song menacing tone and his hands became rough pushing her onto the bed and holding her down with his body and clapping a hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream. And when he pulled back so she could see his face, it wasn't Danny at all, but Laurel's killer with the blood trailing down the side of his face and the sweat beading on his brow. "I'm going to finish what I started, little Miss Lind--say." _

"No, no, no," she screamed, as she sat straight up in bed. Her body was drenched in perspiration and her heart was beating like a caged bird. She drew a steadying breath, pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. She had slept so well last night. Every time an image had started to materialize in her dreams, she would hear Danny's voice reassuring her and his hand stroking somewhere on her body and the image would recede. How was she going to make it through the day without him here?


	34. What Is 'It?

**Author's Note**: NeverMindDream the second half of this chapter was inspired by you and Danny's Diary!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. Everything else however is mine.

What Is 'It'?

After Lindsay's heart rate slowed to a calmer pace, she got out of bed, pulled on her yoga pants and went in search of coffee. She was determined that she would keep herself busy today, to keep the memories of the attack at bay.

Danny had thoughtfully set out an almost empty can of coffee on the counter with a note on top of it. As she read the note, she smiled because the note was rather long for Danny; she knew how much he hated to write.

_M- _

_Going to work was NOT what I wanted to do today! I'm sorry there is only cold pizza to eat but I was lucky and found some coffee. Call the market down on the corner to have groceries delivered. I run a tab with them. Their number is on the refrigerator. Cleared two drawers for your clothes, unpack, make yourself at home. Will call you later. _

_D- _

_P.S. Take it easy today. _

As she started the coffee, she thought about her and Danny, really thought about them, together. She didn't have a clue where all this was going with Danny. He was being incredibly sweet and thoughtful, he seemed to genuinely care about her and want to be with her. She knew she cared about him and loved being with him. That's all she could be certain of right now. The rest, if there was more, would have to be revealed in time. Meanwhile she was going to take Danny's note to heart by unpacking, stocking the place with groceries and doing something really special to show him how much she appreciated him being there for her.

First order of business was a shower. As she hopped into Danny's bedroom, to get some clothes, she actually saw it for the first time. Last night she had been half asleep and this morning she had been _ahem_ preoccupied. It was just as sparse as the rest of the apartment, queen sized bed with the bedclothes in a twist, a chair in the corner next to a stand of free weights and a bench press (ok, only in a guy's bedroom), closet door ajar, dresser with a couple of framed photos on top of it, your standard bedroom stuff. She hopped over to the dresser to take a closer look at the photos. One was of two boys, their arms over each other's shoulders, grins on their faces, one slightly older and taller than the other. This must be Danny and Louie as boys, she thought, as the picture was quite faded. The taller had dark hair just like Louie and the shorter had that buckskin colored hair like Danny and, as she looked closer, she could discern that trademark Messer grin on his face. Imagine that, even as a kid he was irresistible! The other photo was of a kid's baseball team. The bottom inscription said 'Summer League Champions'. After seeing the previous photo, she was able to pick out Danny immediately. He was standing front and center with that same Messer grin and his hands were resting on the hilt of a bat. She looked closely at the bat. Even though the picture was old, she could make out the red and black rings around the bat, at the grip. Those were the same markings as the bat the team gave her for her birthday. She remembered how surprised Danny had been when she thanked him and said what a good job he had done on it and how much she loved it. She was surprised that he had been surprised because, after all, she was a CSI and she knew his handwriting. What she hadn't known, was that it was his 'Summer League Championship' bat. Her heart puckered at the sweetness of the whole thought behind the gift.

She decided to go ahead and put her clothes away first. As she put them neatly into the two drawers that Danny had cleared for her, she came across her cell phone with the charger cord and her purse. _Bless you Stella!_ Of course the phone was completely dead so she plugged it in and laid it on top of the dresser. Now she wouldn't feel so cut off from the outside world.

Later on, emerging from the shower, she put on an old pair of gray sweat pants with the waist band folded down all the way to her hips and a pink cap-sleeved shirt that ended somewhere around her belly button. This was her at her most relaxed and comfortable. All she needed was a little music and she would get busy with her day.

As she looked over the CD collection in the living room, she picked several and loaded the tray. Danny didn't have her favorites but he had quite a collection nonetheless. Even though she listened to a wide variety of music, there were still those favorites that she couldn't get by without. When he calls, she'd ask him to bring the stack sitting on her desk at work. As she hummed along to the music she made the grocery list and placed a call to the market.

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If Danny thought that being at work, without Lindsay there to distract him was going to be easy, he was completely wrong. Since he had spent a whole two nights sleeping up next to her and an entire day in her company getting to know her better, the only thoughts that occupied his mind for more than thirty seconds were those of Lindsay. Plus it didn't help that everyone kept asking about her. Not that he minded talking about her in a general sense, it was a little surreal that all of a sudden within a twenty-four hour period he had become the fountain of knowledge on Lindsay Monroe.

Mac caught him early in the morning.

"Hey, how's Lindsay doing?"

"She's handling everything relatively well… still gets a little freaked occasionally but nothing major," he said very casually. After their little conversation, about the love issue, he didn't want to get too personal. Even though Mac had helped him out, he still didn't care to discuss his personal life with anyone at the office. He needn't had worried because Mac was all about the job today.

"Good… can you check on the DNA results for the perp that attacked her and let me know as soon as you find something conclusive?"

"Sure Mac… and thanks for the day off yesterday." Danny added.

"Don't mention it," Mac nodded.

Of course Stella had not been as professional. And even though she wasn't an office gossip, she couldn't help ribbing him a little.

"So how's the princess in the ivory tower?" she asked quite playfully.

"What?" he said as he stared at her with his mouth agape.

"Come on Messer, you know you've been wanting to get her into your apartment ever since you started calling her Montana," she teased. "By the way, it was a fortunate turn of events that you had her key on your key ring when I went to pick up her clothes."

"Ya know we live close to one another and I'm a backup for her, in case…" he lied rather unconvincingly. Why was he even bothering to explain himself. _Women! They weren't happy just messing with you physically; they had to mess with you mentally too! He had one at home doing that to him already and now he had another one at the office. _

"You're a horrible liar when it comes to Lindsay, Danny, you know that," Stella said earnestly.

"I gotta track down some DNA results," he muttered as he turned his back on a snickering Stella.

Later on in the day, Sid and Hawkes were no exception. Their only saving grace was that they hadn't been at the crime scene or the hospital, so they had less material at their disposal.

"So is this going to be your regular stint now?" Hawkes inquired.

"What do you mean?" Danny replied a bit suspiciously.

"I think what Hawkes is referring to is the way you keep rescuing the Damsel-Lindsay-in-Distress," explained Sid in that rather lofty and distracted way he had of talking about things.

Danny wondered what the hell Sid was even doing out of the morgue. _Who let him out anyway? _

"I'm always there to help out a fellow CSI," Danny supplied in his defense. Why he was even justifying his actions to these two clowns was beyond him.

"It seems a little odd, that it always happens on your watch," said Hawkes with that little smile playing on his face that almost had you believing it was a totally innocent comment.

_Watch? there was a watch! Nobody told **him** about a watch! _

"Putting her up in your apartment is a wise move, easier to keep track of her," Sid said in approval. "You know, I remember spending a whole week in a woman's apartment and not seeing the light of day once the entire time," Sid babbled, going off on another one of his eccentric tangents.

This, Danny did not want to hear so he excused himself to track down the DNA results amid Hawke's laughter and Sid's ramblings.

When he picked up the DNA results, he shot Adam a warning look and Adam quickly swallowed any remark he had been about to make.

But towards the end of the day, Flack had been the worst, of course. He was a great guy for having your back but when the serious stuff was over and done with, almost anything was fair game. At least he wasn't playing the white knight angle.

Flack started in on him immediately, "So, Messer, I hear you got a hot babe named Montana stashed up in your apartment."

"Flack, grow up!" Danny muttered.

"You know, I hear she can take down a grown man," obviously referring to Lindsay's handling of the perp who attacked her in her apartment. "Fights like a wildcat," he added.

Danny stared at him.

"Better be careful, she could hurt you real bad." Flack had joked with that sideways grin on his face.

He knew Flack had been referring to her hurting him physically, but it did beg another question that had been rolling around in his mind all day. What was going on between him and Lindsay? Whatever it was, he thought it was great but still he didn't have a label for it. Were they dating? Nah, never even been on a proper date with the woman. Were they sleeping together? Nah, Yeah, Nah… there were too many meanings for the phrase 'sleeping together'. Table that one. Were they messing around? Nah, he didn't mess around with nice girls… just too damn complicated. Were they just hanging out? Nah, there had been too much messin' around going on. Wait, wait, wait a minute here! He was going in circles. Maybe he outta call her and see how she's doing. Hearing her voice would probably bring some logic into his thoughts. _Nah… who was he kidding?_ He was still going to call her though. After all in his note he said he would. You didn't put things in writing and then not follow through. Women were sticklers about that kind of stuff.

She picked up after the first ring. Good sign he reasoned, she's excited to hear from him, maybe too excited, as he recalled his short but suffocating stint with Cindy.

"Hey Montana" he said in his customary greeting.

_"Danny,"_ she said brightly. It was that same tone she had used to greet her father, on the phone, at his apartment yesterday.

"Ya doing okay all by yourself?" He wasn't sure what answer he wanted to hear from this question. 'Yes' would mean she's handling things on her own which would be good, right? But maybe then she wouldn't really need him and that thought bothered him. But 'No' would not be good either. He didn't want her in angst anymore than she had to be. Damn, he was driving himself crazy.

_"Yeah, I'm keeping busy but I can't wait until you come home. It's not the same without you here." _

_Ah, perfect answe_r! He didn't think anyone had ever said to him before, _'I can't wait until you come home.'_ Whatever doubts or confusion he had, melted away. He knew the label no longer mattered, all that mattered was being with her. Whatever 'it' was, would sort itself out in time.

"I know, I can't wait to be home," he replied with almost a choke in his voice.

_"Oh and Danny could you bring the stack of CD's off my desk?" _

"What there aren't enough CD's there for ya?" recovering himself and joking with her.

_"No, there are plenty. I'm enjoying them now. Those on my desk happen to be my absolute favorites, that's all." _

"Okay, see ya in a cuppla hours."


	35. Sorry

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Sorry

Danny could not wait to get home to Lindsay. He was experiencing this gnawing need to be with her, to smell her intoxicating scent, to lose himself in those deep soulful eyes of hers, to hear her gentle laugh and to feel her soft touch on those rare occasions when she touched him. He took the stairs, in his building, two at a time and quickly unlocked the door. As he threw his badge and phone on the table by the door he called out, " Montana!"

"Hey, I'm in the kitchen," she called back.

_Damn, something smells delicious_, he thought, as he walked to the kitchen and leaned casually against the doorjamb. Actually he wasn't feeling casual at all. He was feeling downright predatorial. When he saw Lindsay in that little getup of sweat pants and t-shirt that bared the sensual curve of her waist and lower back, all he could think about was taking her right then and there on the counter.

So with some great measure of control, he asked, "Whatcha doin' Montana?" He watched her working, diligently with a knife, on something on the counter.

"Give me a minute! I'm making something for you," she returned, deep in concentration.

He waited patiently but in reality he wanted to walk right up behind her, slide his hands around her waist, to the tight stretch of her stomach, and pull her back against him so he could bury his face in her deliciously scented hair.

"There," she said triumphantly as she hopped around on one foot to face him. In her hands was a pie.

"Pie?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You like apple pie don't you?" she asked with a sweet smile on her face.

"Sure, I like apple pie," he said as he pushed himself off the door jamb and walked towards her holding her deep brown eyes with his intense blue ones. "But ya know what I like even better than pie?" he asked as he stopped in front of her, pressing his chest against the edge of the pie. It was as if he were invading her personal space, even though there was technically a pie plate width between them.

She licked her lips involuntarily and the "_What?"_ died in her throat as she read the hungry look in his eyes.

He took the pie from her hands and placed it on the stove next to the counter where she had been working. Then he lightly placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up on the counter and closed the distance between them.

She was eye level with him now. As he slid his arms around her waist, she returned, in kind, by sliding her arms around his neck. She could feel her skin burn where his hands rested along her waist and back. His thumbs were rhythmically rubbing little circles on her waist causing her legs to weaken, while the feel of his spiky hair at her fingertips was causing the nerve endings in her fingers to tingle.

As he leaned in and brushed her lips with his, she forgot to exhale until he pulled back briefly. She barely had time to catch her breath before his lips came down on hers again, and this time, it was a full fledged kiss which took away any breath she had managed to gain in that brief interlude. He ran his tongue along her lips and as her lips parted to grant him access; she whimpered which only deepened the kiss. His hands ran under her shirt and up her back to press her closer to him. Only when she thought she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, and the intense sensations prickling all along her nerve endings, did he pull back. He slid his hands back down to her waist.

His eyes were narrowed and in a husky voice he said, "That's what I like even better than apple pie!"

She recovered just enough to squeak out, "Um… so… you don't want the pie?"

He smiled at her with that slightly crooked grin and said, "No, I want the pie too, it just happens to be a distant second."

"Oh," she said as she pursed her lips into a perfect 'O' shape.

She looked so cute doing that pout thing with her lips, he had to warn her, "Careful Montana, or I'll have to kiss you again."

"Would that be such a bad thing, Messer?" she teased.

"No, but it would lead to other things which I think are better left alone, until you're completely healed. My brakes ain't reliable in that kind of situation," he intoned and she caught his drift loud and clear. Once he started, he wouldn't stop until they were both satiated. He wanted to make sure she could handle it first. She shivered in delightful anticipation and he smirked in clear understanding of her anticipation.

Suddenly he switched gears as he finally noticed all the signs of activity in the kitchen, "By the way have you been on your feet all day?"

"Um… no," she replied quickly.

"Liar," he said softly. He dropped one hand from her waist as he turned to the freezer behind him, opened the door and pulled out a bag of ice. He swiveled her around and placed her legs up on the counter. He gently pulled up her pants leg and arranged the bag of ice on her ankle.

"Danny, I have to finish dinner," she protested.

"I'll finish dinner, just tell me what to do," he ordered. "Besides, don't you want to get better?" he teased as he trailed his fingers tantalizingly along her stomach and brushed his lips across her cheek.

A little laugh escaped her lips. "That tickles and yes I do want to get better… most definitely. Now take the chicken out of the oven and put in the pie," she ordered.

Danny followed her instructions to a T. When dinner was on the coffee table, he put the bag of ice back in the freezer and carried her easily into the living room and placed her on the couch.

He poured a glass of white wine and handed it to her. Then he sat on the couch, opened a beer and silently saluted her, with an arch of his eyebrows, as he clinked the bottle against her wine glass.

"Could you do the honors?" she gestured to the baked chicken. "I can't gracefully cut up a chicken to save my life."

"Somehow that surprises me," he said with a smirk. "I was _under_ _the impression_ that you did everything well."

"Maybe I just _give_ _the impression_ that I do everything well," she countered with a smirk.

He grinned. She always seemed to have a clever comeback for his teasing. That was a definite turn on. But at this point, all she had to say was 'Boo' and he would be turned on.

He fixed a plate of food and passed it over to her. She noticed that he fixed a heaping plate for himself.

"Danny, didn't you eat today?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah… I did… I think so… maybe somethin' from the vending machine," he said distractedly between mouthfuls of food.

He looked at her earnestly, "This is really delicious, Montana. Are you going to cook like this every night?"

She was taken aback at how much he seemed to be enjoying it and the fact that he said 'every night'. Because New York has the best food in the country, she was touched that he would find her simple meal of baked chicken, green beans and new potatoes so delicious. Even though 'every night' was just a phrase, it made her feel special that in some manner, he was thinking of her being around for the long term.

He finished his first serving and was going for seconds before she was halfway through her initial serving. She enjoyed watching him relish her cooking. When he'd polished off his second serving and chased it down with the rest of his beer she teased, "Finally coming up for air, Cowboy?"

"Ah man, that was so good Montana. I don't get a home cooked meal very often," he replied as he leaned over and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. She blushed at the sentiment. He thought her face, tinged with pink, looked very attractive so he maintained his close position and casually twirled his finger into one of the curls resting near her cheek.

_How am I supposed to carry on a coherent conversation when he's doing stuff like that? _

"I cooked it for you to show how much I appreciate you being there for me, when in all rights you didn't have to be," she said simply.

He looked a little surprised, "I told you I'd be there for you… for whatever you needed. Why would you think otherwise?"

_Don't you feel like a first class heel, Lindsay!_

"Uh…well…because of this little message left on my phone by Mac on the day of our fight. I didn't hear it, until today, after I recharged my phone," she said sheepishly. "He said you weren't the one who told him about Laurel. He heard it from my old boss in Bozeman. So I'm really sorry I accused you of telling him and not believing you when you told me otherwise," she finished in a rush. Now she could feel her face burning.

"You don't gotta apologize for that," he said huskily, his thumb now stroking her cheek.

"Yeah, I do, Danny. I was horrible to you, especially in the hallway in front of everyone. I should have never assumed that it was you who told Mac. Even if you had, it would have only been because you were looking out for me."

"Lindsay, I knew where you were coming from. You were raw from the pain, and grief of being taking off your sister's murder case. I can relate to that. When it's your family, you want to do everything in your power to help and you weren't being allowed to do that. It's okay." Then he added, "Actually it worked out for the best."

Now it was her turn to look surprised. "How's that?"

"After our little fiasco in the hallway, I got hauled into Mac's office."

"Oh Danny, I'm really sorry about that."

"Nah, don't be. He read me the riot act about getting along with you in the lab. Said if we couldn't resolve it by the time you came back from Montana, he'd be transferring me," Danny said with a grin and a shrug.

When she saw he was treating it lightly, she giggled, "Ohhh! We did create a situation, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but I think we got it worked out don't you?" he asked as he shifted his weight closer to her, slid his hand from her cheek, around her shoulders pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips to her hair.

"Yeah, we did," she said as she snuggled into his chest.

_And I wouldn't have found out that you hadn't gone to Montana and then it might have been too..._ he trailed off in his thoughts. He didn't really want to think about the 'what if's'.

But as if reading his thoughts, she looked up at him perplexed, "How did you know I didn't go to Montana?"

"Called your parents in Montana, of course they said you cancelled your trip."

"I'm glad you and Flack came looking for me that night."

"You would have made it out of there without me, Montana. You were already on your way out when I found you," he returned, rather tightly, with a touch of pride in his voice.

"I know, but I'm still glad you came looking for me," she said as she laid her hand along his cheek and kissed him lightly on the lips.

_Me too Montana, me too! _

The oven buzzer interrupted the light kiss that had begun to deepen. They pulled back, a little disoriented. Finally Lindsay croaked out, "That would be the pie."

"Yeah the pie…smells delicious," he commented distractedly, trying to figure how long it would be before he could totally lose himself in her. Being around her and not being with her was fast becoming an insurmountable challenge.

"Do you want some now?" she inquired a little breathlessly.

"Ab-so-lutely," he replied softly.

Somehow she got the feeling he wasn't talking about pie. She started to push herself off the couch but he put a hand on her upper arm. "I'll get it," he said.

"Thanks," she said gratefully. She was rather tired after all the activity of the day. Hopping around on one foot took a lot of energy.

"This way I can get the bigger piece," he joked as he went into the kitchen.

She smiled; he always knew how to ease the tension.

When he returned, he had indeed given himself the bigger piece.

"Danny that is almost half the pie," she exclaimed.

"What?" he said with his eyebrows raised and displaying that smirk of his. "Can't a man like pie?"

She smiled back appreciatively. _He liked her pie!_

They passed the time in easy conversation long after they had finished their pie. In the end there were only two slices left.

"I'll have those for breakfast," Danny declared as he picked up all the dishes and took them into the kitchen.

Lindsay's phone rang and Danny brought it to her from the kitchen counter.

She looked at the caller id and mentally braced herself.

"Hello," she said nonchalantly but her body language belied the tone in her voice.

After seeing the tenseness in her body as she answered, Danny decided to sit back down on the couch beside her. Just in case, he thought to himself.

"Hi Mom, how are you?"

"So Daddy told you. Yeah I'm doing fine. It was nothing really. No, really I'm okay. No, I had today off." She rolled her eyes slightly as she listened to her mother's end of the conversation.

"I haven't heard yet, but hold on, I'll ask Danny, he's right here." She put her hand over the receiver as she turned to him. "Did you get confirmation on the DNA results on the perp that attacked me?" He nodded to her and noticed that she hadn't flinched at all when she had asked that question.

"Yeah it's him," she paused for long time, as Danny heard sobbing from the other end of the phone.

"Mom, it's going to be okay. Mom…this is the best thing that could have happened. Now he can be prosecuted and put away for good." Lindsay tried to calm her mother.

"Mom, can you put Daddy on the phone… thanks." Lindsay waited.

"Hey Daddy, you heard… okay. I'll keep you posted. Take care of mom, okay. Yeah I'm fine. No I'm staying with someone. I promise and I love you. Bye."

Lindsay closed the phone, tossed it to the coffee table, leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. Danny watched her for a very long time wondering what was going through her mind. She wasn't upset like she had been yesterday when she spoke to her parents, but she was definitely bothered.

"Ya alright?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," she said without moving a muscle.

He waited.

"It's always this way with my mother… she gets so hysterical." Lindsay finally admitted.

Danny didn't really want to play devil's advocate but, in this instance, he felt it might bring some perspective to the situation. "Her daughter's murderer was just taken into custody."

"Yeah, I know," she replied, "but if only that's all it was."

She didn't add anything else and he didn't press her. Family issues were always a touchy matter.

She looked at him and stated what was showing in her face. "I'm tired. I'm going to go ahead and go to bed. Okay?"

"Sure, sure," he nodded in understanding.

She put her hand on his cheek and stoked it softly with her thumb. "Thanks for being here and listening."

He kissed on lightly on the forehead. "Go on, I'll be along in a little bit."


	36. Being There

**Author's Note: **Because you readers and reviewers have been so good to me and last night's episode of CSI:NY was rerun, here is some much needed D/L interaction.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Being There

The cell phone rang at 4 am and roused Danny out of a deep sleep.

"Damn," Danny swore as the phone rang again and he grabbed it blindly off the nightstand. Of course he didn't need to see caller id to know who it was.

"Messer," he barked into the phone and then remembered Lindsay sleeping right beside him. He turned on his side away from her hoping that the rest of the conversation wouldn't wake her. Too late, she turned toward him and slid her hand around his waist to rest it low on his abs, then placed her chin in the crook of his neck.

_Damn, how I am suppose to remember the location of the crime scene when she puts her hand right there?_

He held his breath and focused really hard until Mac finished giving instructions. He strangled out, "Okay be there ASAP," clipped the phone shut, tossed it back onto the nightstand, flipped onto his back as he snaked an arm down and around Lindsay's waist and flipped her deftly on top of him. She gave a little squeal of surprise and delight.

" Montana, I swear you did that on purpose," he growled at her low in his throat.

"Did what?" she asked innocently as she laid her cheek on his chest and pressed her lips into his neck.

She could feel their body heat melding together through the thin fabric of their night clothes. It made her body wet and swell in response and she could feel his hardened response along her inner thigh.

"If you are telling me that you're ready for this, its rather poor timing," he said huskily, as he slid a hand from her waist down to rest low on her hip.

"I _am _and yes I _know_, but you just woke me from the most delicious dream before I was fully satisfied," she teased quietly as she traced a circle with her index finger on his chest.

"Daammn Montana," he groaned. "How am I supposed to process a crime scene effectively with that image in my mind?"

She laughed huskily, "I don't know, but how about I ride along with you and we can discuss some effective blocking strategies?"

He didn't miss the double meaning behind those words. "You're not helping here," he groaned again.

"No, I'm serious," she replied. And something in her voice had changed. Maybe to worry, anxiety, fear, he couldn't quite be sure.

"Lindsay, you can't go back to work yet. For starters you aren't back on your feet and secondly Mac would have both our heads," he argued with her.

"No, not to work, just to be there… so I won't have to be here alone," she trailed off slightly embarrassed.

He brought his hands to either side of her face and turned it to look into her eyes. "Ya okay?" It was too dark to read her expression.

"Um… I don't sleep well when you're not beside me. It happened yesterday morning after you left. And now this morning, you're leaving even earlier." She felt embarrassed but her need to not be alone in the dark and have those nightmares invade her subconscious was stronger. "Look, I can sit in the SUV and wait until it becomes daylight. Then I'll catch a taxi back here, okay? No one even has to know I'm there."

He knew Lindsay didn't make unreasonable requests and he didn't want her to be in anymore angst than necessary, so he agreed by whispering in her ear, "Okay, get dressed."

She hugged his neck tightly and pressed a grateful kiss into his neck before she scrambled off of him to get dressed. He had never seen a woman so eager to get out of his bed and get dressed, he thought ruefully, as he tried to calm his body enough to get his own clothes on without completely embarrassing himself.

-----------------------------------------------------

They didn't talk in the SUV, just listened to the morning news and sipped their coffee that Danny had thoughtfully picked up along the way. When they arrived at the crime scene, Danny squeezed her hand, "I have my cell, call me if you need me, okay." He brushed a quick kiss across her lips. She felt the slight tickle of his goatee and then he was gone.

She continued to sip her coffee and listen to the morning news, when a knock on her window startled her. She turned to see Mac with a small smile playing around his lips. She rolled down the window.

"Morning," she greeted him.

"Morning, I noticed you here when I came to get something out of my car. How are you doing?"

"Doing good," she paused and Mac look at her expectantly with the unspoken question mirrored plainly on his face, '_So what are you doing here?_'

You didn't ignore Mac's question, spoken or unspoken, so she continued, "The inactivity is starting to drive me a little batty and I couldn't sleep, so I asked Danny if I could ride along." Okay that was fudging it a bit, but Mac didn't need to know all the details.

"You'll be back to it soon enough." Mac encouraged.

She knew this wasn't the best time to ask, but he had brought up the subject. "When can I come back?"

She saw the hesitation on his face.

"I mean just for modified lab duty. I know you guys could really use the help," she added quickly.

"Are you walking on two feet yet?"

"Yeah," there went another little white lie.

"I tell you what, you get a psych eval on my desk and I'll consider it after I read the report." Mac returned.

"Thanks, Mac," she replied gratefully. She really wanted to get back to the lab. Although yesterday at Danny's had been busy, she didn't know what she was going to do today, and honestly there was a better chance of seeing Danny on a daily basis if she were at the lab. As soon as she got back to Danny's apartment she would call and make an appointment.

She listened to the news and sipped her coffee until dawn started to break, then she turned off the radio. She told herself she would lean her head back for just a few minutes then she would head out to catch a taxi.

Much later, she awoke to a tapping on the window of the SUV. Danny was peering into the passenger's side window. He looked rather strained and there was a sense of urgency about him. She reached over and unlocked the door. He opened it, slid his arms quickly around her and turned her body towards him. With one arm around her waist and the other along the back of her neck, his hand tangling wildly in her hair, his lips claimed hers roughly and she gasped slightly in surprise. He immediately lessened the pressure, somewhat, and she relaxed enough to allow his tongue access to the inner recesses of her mouth, as it relentlessly invaded every inch. She didn't wait for him to gentle the kiss before she responded eagerly. She ran her hands up under his CSI jacket and around his neck. He had kissed her like this only one other time, that night in her apartment when he caught her off-guard about the possible intruder situation. At that time he was angry that she had played the situation unsafely. He had quelled his anger into passion and kissed her. Now she recognized the same need in him to expend the intense emotion he was struggling with at the moment. She thought it quite a creative way of expending the emotion, more creative than bawling into someone's shirt front for example. And she was only too willing to help him out.

When he released her lips, he leaned his forehead against hers and his breathing was ragged. She placed a hand along his cheek and stroked the hair on his chin with her thumb. She gently touched her lips to his.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Danny never apologized unnecessarily, so this apology puzzled her.

"For what?" she asked softly, her other hand stroking the back of his neck.

"For using you in that way."

"You didn't use me, Danny, you reached out to me. There is a big difference."

He lifted his head and looked into the deep, soulful calm of her eyes with a questioning look on his face.

"Danny, it would be using me if you walked away without a backward glance, after an episode like this, but you never do that."

He looked at her a bit warily.

She continued, "How often have you been there for me? You've never let me down."

He nodded slightly.

Then she said very tenderly, "Danny, I am here for you too, okay?"

On some level, he had known that ever since she beeped him 911, on that fateful day, when she found his DNA at the scene of the Tanglewood murder case. Now she made it concrete with her simple statement of assurance.

She slid both her hands back around his neck placing her thumbs right on the hollows behind his ears, her fingers splayed out on the back of his neck. As she pulled his head down towards hers, she whispered, "Besides I think your way of working through the emotion is much better than mine, don't you?" Then she claimed his lips in the manner that he had claimed hers just moments ago.

He groaned in response as the wave of desire shot from his groin throughout all parts of his body. It was excruciating being in such a public place. He wanted nothing more than to become familiar with every inch of her body with each one of his five senses. He wanted to taste her, touch her, smell her, see her and hear her, to know her completely. He knew he would never be satisfied until he had the opportunity to indulge in that long desired fantasy. For the moment; however, he allowed himself to be content letting one hand slide up her back underneath her sweatshirt and camisole and letting the other slide down underneath the waistband of her sweatpants, caressing her hip at the waistband of her panties.

She quickly tugged his shirt and t-shirt out of the waistband of his pants and trailed her fingertips around his waist just above his jeans. The pit of her abdomen was a swirling mass of butterflies and fire. Could she resist him if he decided to take her right here on the seat of the SUV? She doubted it because her body was screaming to be completely possessed by him and to completely possess him in return.

It was well into a minute before they came up for air. Their breathing was ragged as they pulled apart. They continued to drink each other in through their eyes, while they heeded the one, remaining, working brain cell between them, which told them to remove their hands from each other. Lindsay reluctantly dropped hers to her lap. But before Danny removed his hands, he ran his hand around to her front to graze tantalizingly over her breasts. There was nothing between his fingertips and her skin; she wore no bra. Her nipples went instantly erect and her eyes rolled back into her head as a hard sigh escaped her lips.

That one little sound was almost enough to send him over the edge but Danny hung onto the one coherent, appropriate thought in his head and pulled his hands away. He ran a hand through his hair willing himself to calm down and blew through his lips as he looked up at the sky hoping for an ice storm right at that moment. After all, he had to get to the lab, some time today, in some semblance of a work mode.

"You cheater!" she exclaimed softly as his eyes returned to focus on her.

"I thought all was fair in love and war," he stated with a small smirk.

Lindsay smiled at him teasingly, "I'll remember that. By the way, do you have time to give me a lift home or should I catch a cab?"

He grinned slyly at her, "It'd probably be safer for you to take a cab but if you're willing to risk it, I'll give you a lift home."

"I'll take my chances, Messer," she challenged back slyly.

_That's what I'm counting on, Montana! That's what I'm counting on, because if you only knew the half of it._

They lapsed into silence as Danny slid behind the wheel of the SUV and began the drive back to his apartment. Even though they had shared that passionate interlude and the teasing moment, Danny's mood was now somber. Lindsay watched Danny, wondering what had bothered him so at the crime scene. He glanced over at her with an inquiring look and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" he said with a shrug and trained his eyes forward again.

"Just wondering what bothered you at the crime scene?" she asked casually.

"How do you know something bothered me?" he countered as he glanced at her again.

This time she wouldn't let his eyes slide away from hers.

"Alright, alright," he said lifting his hands off the steering wheel momentarily in a sign of defeat.

He sighed and rubbed a hand along his jaw line. "This crime scene was gruesome even for NY, I'll admit. A whole family was murdered, save the father who came home from the graveyard shift, during the processing, and fell completely apart."

His voice became a little quieter, "I can't blame the guy at all. You leave for work one evening and come back 10 hours later and everything in your world that you loved and cared about is completely gone. How do you recover from something like that?" He asked that last question more to himself than to Lindsay.

She placed her hand on his thigh in silent support and he looked down at it momentarily before he continued, "Anyway, after we were done processing and canvassing, I needed to connect with someone or something that could convince me that the world was still a half decent place to be in." He paused. "I'm glad that you were still there," he said gratefully as he clasped her hand on his thigh.

"Me too," she said with a small smile. Then she looked out her window and said with a touch of sadness in her voice, "If you figure out how you recover from something like that, will you let me know?"

He stole a quick glance at her but she was no longer looking him, so he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a quick kiss across her knuckles in silent agreement.

They were both somber for the remainder of the ride back to the apartment. When they arrived, there were no available parking spots so Danny had to double park in front of his building. He gave Lindsay a piggy back ride up to his apartment and let her slide gently off his back to rest against his door. He turned around and placed his hands on either side of her head on the door. Their somber moods had translated into a smoldering need for each other that was tenuously restrained. His face was mere inches from hers and she placed her hands on either side of his face, caressing his bottom lip gently with one of her thumbs. They stared hungrily at each other, until Danny said tightly, "The last thing on my mind right now is work, but unfortunately that is where I need to be."

He then added huskily, "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Her insides were quivering for him and she knew it would take only a whisper of encouragement from her for him to throw caution to the wind and follow her inside. She knew now, as he had known those few short weeks ago in her apartment, that they wanted to do this right, not in a New York minute. So she ignored every clamoring nerve ending in her body when she said as lightly as she could muster, "You can count on it Cowboy." As she gave him a playful slap on the rear, she said, "Now get going before Mac sends out a posse to look for you."

He chuckled slightly at that, touched her cheek briefly and was gone. She turned around and leaned her forehead against his door to allow herself time to regain the use of her legs. Oh god, what was she going to do today to keep herself busy?


	37. Frustration

**Author's Note: Thanks** for hanging with me guys... I have so much story it just keeps spewing... so here is some fun stuff for you to get through until Wednesday night!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Frustration

Thanks goodness for such a busy day at work, Danny thought as 5:00 pm approached. He knew it would be hard to concentrate on work, while thoughts of Lindsay, waiting at home for him, filled his mind, but processing of the evidence from the murder scene of the family had been intricate, to say the least, and had required his full attention. Since there were four victims, blood and fingerprints were intermingled throughout the apartment. Most of the fingerprints inside the apartment had been accounted for by the victims and the husband; however, there were a few strays that had been lifted and Danny was waiting on matches. Several fingerprints had been lifted from outside the apartment, around the front door, that hadn't belonged to the victims or the husband. Hopefully some of these unknown fingerprints would yield a suspect. Based on the interview with the husband, that Flack had conducted, there was only one suspect, at this time, with a motive, the ex-husband of the murdered wife. One of the three children had been his, with the wife, and a restraining order had been taken out against the ex for threatening the wife and his child countless times, with bodily harm.

"Okay you son-of-a-bitch, we've got you," Danny exclaimed, as the beep from the computer heralded a match on the prints found outside of the apartment.

He immediately made a call on his cell.

"Flack, were you able to locate the ex-husband on this morning's murder case?" asked Danny tersely.

"Good, hold him. I've got his prints all over the outside of the apartment. I'll be there ASAP."

Danny looked at the time again. Damn, this could take all evening, if this guy was a tough nut to crack. _I better call Lindsay and let her know it could be awhile_. Of all the rotten times to have a break in the case, this was the worst. But he knew this was a part of the job and that Lindsay would understand, particularly on this case.

He placed the call as he headed out of the building to go to the station precinct.

"_Hey Danny_," she said a little breathlessly as the connection was made.

His body began to ache at the sound of her soft voice. So many images from the past few days flooded his mind, and sharply reminded him of the unfinished business they had left hanging at the apartment door this morning. Oh god, this was going to be harder than he first anticipated.

"Hey, how ya doing?"

"_I'm good… How are you doing?"_

"Actually good."

He paused briefly, "Listen, Lindsay, we have a suspect in custody for this morning's murder. I'm heading down to the precinct now to interrogate him."

"_Do you have a motive and anything to place him at the murder scene_?" she fired back.

Man, what had he been worried about? This was Lindsay he was talking about here. Three days around her, away from the job, had quickly faded his memories of her dedication to catching the s.o.b.s that commit these heinous crimes.

"Not inside, but all around the outside of the apartment. He has motive too. There is a recent R.O. against him for countless bodily harm threats against the wife, who is his ex, and the oldest child, which is his, with the wife. I think we may have the son of a bitch," he replied a little heatedly.

"_Good, I know you and Flack can crack this guy_."

"That's what I'm hoping for," he stated emphatically. Then his voice turned husky of its own accord, "Lindsay, I want you to know that I was really looking forward to tonight."

There was a slight pause.

He could hear the catch in her voice as she said, "Me too… but I want you to nail this guy, okay?"

"Sure, I will… Bye"

"_Bye_"

--------------------------------------------------

Four grueling hours later, Flack and Danny had not been able to budge the ex-husband from his claims of innocence.

"Listen man, like I already told ya! I didn't clock out from my job until 2 am. You can check my timecard _and_ with my buddies. I'm not saying another word, I'm done," he said as he glared at Flack and Danny.

They heard a tapping on the two-way glass and left the room to confer with Hawkes, who was waiting for them.

"Bad news, his story checks out. More than one person saw him leave the job at 2 am and not only that, but we have someone on the subway that filed an assault charge against a guy matching our suspect's description. Hawkes held up a police artist's sketch of the suspect currently in the interrogation room. Apparently they had a little falling out over who was the best bet for this year's super bowl. That was roughly around 2:45 am, on the other end of town from the murders. This isn't our guy," Hawkes finished a little apologetically.

"Damn," Danny swore roughly.

"It's okay, man," Flack said encouragingly. "We'll get whoever did this."

"I'm going back to the lab." Danny said suddenly. "There were a couple of prints on the outside of the apartment and a couple inside that didn't match this suspect or the family. That might be enough to give us another lead."

Another two hours later, Danny was no closer to matching the stray prints. There was no match in any database to which he had access. Couple this with the fact that they hadn't even found a murder weapon and had ruled out their only suspect, who had a motive, he felt very defeated at this moment.

Mac popped his head inside the door. "Danny, what are you still doing here? It is well after midnight!"

Danny shook his head. "Our only suspect from the murder this morning has an airtight alibi. I'm trying to find a match for some stray prints I found at the scene, to try to dig up another lead. I've just gotta find something for this guy who lost his whole family," Danny replied in anguish.

Mac clapped a hand reassuringly on Danny's shoulder. "Go home! You've been up since 4 am. You need some sleep. Things will seem clearer in the morning."

"Maybe you're right," Danny replied, looking bleary eyed at Mac.

"And Danny," Mac said as Danny was exiting the lab, "take a few hours in the morning to sleep in. A good night's sleep can make all the difference in the world."

"Thanks, Mac." Mac was usually all about the job, but every once in a while, when it really counted, he showed his human side.

-----------------------------------------------------

When Danny arrived back at the apartment it was well after 1 am. As he placed his badge and phone on the table beside the door, he saw Lindsay curled up on the couch sound asleep. He could barely make out her face through the maddeningly tangled veil of wavy hair covering her face. What was it about her hair that drove him crazy? It must be that everything else about her implied calmness, efficiency, and reserve, while the hair… the hair hinted at the delightful wantonness that she kept locked securely behind all the other layers that made up Lindsay Monroe. Yes, securely locked away, until these past few days, when he had been fortunate enough to experience the inner Lindsay. As much as he liked the other layers, he relished the innermost one, the one that he would like to partake of at this moment. But the fact of the matter was that it was way too late for a CSI that had been on the job since 4 am; one that needed a good night's sleep in order to crack a senseless and devastating murder of a four innocent people. One, who desperately needed a beer.

He walked to the refrigerator and opened the door to grab a beer when saw the plate of food, wrapped with saran wrap, with a note on top.

_I know you'll be hungry after you nail the bad guy. Enjoy! L- _

_Does she know me or what?_ He was famished but his heart still tightened at the thought that she had complete faith that he would nail the murderer tonight and yet he hadn't. He remembered Mac's words, _'Things will seem clearer in the morning.'_ He had to trust, that tomorrow, the break would come. He heated the food in the microwave, then carried it and the beer to the living room and sat on the coffee table across from Lindsay. As he gulped down the food and the beer, he realized for the first time that the lamp, the TV and the DVD player were on. The DVD player had long since stopped playing and the TV volume was completely off, but he realized what Lindsay must have been doing, waiting up for him. Whether it was because of their unfinished business or the fact she didn't sleep well when he wasn't there or both, he didn't know. By now, he had finished eating. He swallowed the remainder of the beer as he took the dishes to the kitchen and placed them quietly in the sink. All he wanted to do was sink into his comfortable bed, next to Lindsay, and sleep. He turned off the TV, DVD player and lamp, picked up Lindsay from the couch and carried her to the bedroom.

-----------------------------------------------

Danny didn't stir, the next morning, until he felt the warmth, in the bed, recede. He sleepily opened his eyes and focused on the clock; it displayed 9:30 am. He groaned. Lindsay was no longer in the bed and he turned into her pillow to catch a waft of her scent. It immediately brought to mind their moments together yesterday and he wondered where she was. He heard water running in the shower. Hmmm… maybe he could catch her coming out of the shower or better yet, in the shower. He hauled himself out of bed, walked over to the bathroom door and opened it gently. He could see the suggestive outline of her body through the opaque shower curtain. _Mental note: Buy a see through shower curtain!_ He walked across the bathroom to stand directly in front of the shower curtain. The water shut off and he could see her running her hands along her head to squeeze out the excess water from her hair. He didn't want to startle her, so he gently pulled the towel off the curtain rod into his hands. She reached for the towel and gave a quiet, "What?" Then she saw his outline.

"Danny!" she exclaimed.

"What?" he replied innocently.

"You know what…. the towel…hand it over!" she stated slightly exasperated.

"Uh, uh, I don't think so Monroe! I think a trade is in order," he said, thoroughly enjoying the predicament that she was in.

"Danny, I don't have time to mess around this morning. I have an 11:00 appointment with the departmental shrink," she said somewhat agitated.

_Ah ha, the ante just went up!_

"Then I guess you better come up with something quick!" he said, barely concealing the glee in his voice.

There was a long pause.

"Lindsay?" he said a little concerned.

"You know it is getting a _lit-tle_ _cold_ in here," she said with a shiver in her voice.

He didn't reply because he was enjoying all the delightful pictures running through his mind that the words, cold, naked and Lindsay invoked. But her next words snapped him back to attention.

"Alright you win. You give me the towel, then I get out and give you a little sump'um', sump'um'… deal?" she bargained teasingly.

His whole body quivered at the thought of what she had in mind. And the way she slanged that word; was Montana talking dirty? He would have never believed it, if he hadn't heard it with his own ears.

"Dan-ny," she sing-songed softly. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah… are ya talkin' 'bout what I think you're talkin' 'bout?"

She knew she had him then, because his accent was coming through loud and clear.

"Is it a deal?" she countered.

He was beyond dickering with her anymore because his head was starting to muddle at the thought of any part of her body on his body in any way, shape, form or fashion. He would take his chances. He tossed the towel over the shower curtain and she quickly wrapped it securely around her body.

She pushed back the shower curtain and he noted that she was a wet vision of loveliness, all puns intended! She put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, as she stepped out of the tub while clutching the front of the towel with her other hand. He looked down at her piercingly, waiting for her next move. She pushed on his chest with her index finger until he took a step back, then another and another until he was up against the wall. The entire time he hadn't laid a hand on her and that is just the way she intended it.

"Now keep your hands where I can see them, Cowboy," she said with that teasing voice that he was growing to love.

He wordlessly held them up against the wall next to his head in a gesture of acquiescence. She smiled sweetly at him as she slipped one finger in the waistband of his boxers. He couldn't help but groan at her slight touch.

"Close your eyes! Don't open them until I say so and above all don't touch me or the deal is off," she warned coyly.

He swallowed hard as he closed his eyes. The thought of Lindsay on her knees in front of him, pleasuring him to a hard and fast climax was almost more than he could bear. He willed himself, against the complete protest of every Y chromosome in his body, not to wind his hands in her wet and wildly tousled hair.

He felt a whoosh of air, a towel settling over his face and hands, the click of a door and a chair being dragged across the floor.

"Open them!" he heard Lindsay's lilting voice from the other side of the door and at the same time he heard a loud thump up against the doorknob. "And remember, all's fair in love and war… your words not mine!"

He pulled the towel off his face and looked around in a daze. She was gone! He tried the door but it wouldn't budge. All the sounds he heard a split second ago made sense. She had barricaded him in the bathroom.

"Monnntaannaa!" he brawled as he pounded a couple of times on the door with his fist.

He heard her hysterical laughter from the other side of the door.

_Damn her!_ Things with Cindy had never been this complicated. Of course, they had never been this exciting and intriguing either. Maybe there was something to being with a witty, clever and complicated woman.

"Watch your back, Montana, two can play at this game!" he warned promisingly through the door.

She laughed again and threw back at him, "Cold shower, Cowboy… pronto! I need a ride to my appointment in fifteen minutes."

When Danny emerged from the bedroom, less than 15 minutes later, dressed and ready to go, Lindsay was sipping a cup of coffee and half sitting on the back of the couch, intently watching a local news flash. She wore typical work attire: a pair of slim, black, work slacks, a blue, long-sleeved, v-neck sweater and a pair of black, heeled, ankle high, zip boots. Her hair was pulled back and up. It sobered him to see her dressed for work, after seeing her delectably dressed down for the past 3 days. _Hello CSI, Lindsay Monroe, so long carefree Montana!_

"Danny, I thought you and Flack nailed a suspect for that family murder yesterday," she asked worriedly, as she turned to him and interrupted his thoughts.

"Nah, the guy had an airtight alibi," he replied, the frustration showing plainly on his face. "Why, did it make the news?"

"Yeah it did," she said apologetically. She knew how it felt to have a case aired in the media as not yet solved, with no apparent suspects. It made you feel inadequate and sorry for those close to the victims, all at the same time.

"Dammit," Danny swore. "That poor guy, I hope he's not watching right now.

"Do you have any more leads?" she inquired hopefully.

"Nah, I've got some stray prints that I couldn't find a match on. I'll run them again today to see if they hit against anything that might have gone into the databases overnight. If that doesn't pan out, I'll reexamine all the evidence. There's gotta be a clue there somewhere."

"Hey, how about a cup of coffee?" she offered soothingly.

"Sure, that would be great."

He leaned against the back of the couch, while he listened to her heels click into the kitchen, a clink of the glass pot against a cup and her heels click back with his cup of coffee. His eyes held hers as she handed the cup of coffee to him.

"What?" she asked a little nervously. She couldn't read his expression. Maybe he was miffed about the incident in the bathroom.

He took a sip of his coffee, then reached over and set it on the end table. He leaned toward Lindsay, without leaving the back of the couch, took her cup of coffee from her and set in on the end table next to his. Then he clasped one of her hands in his, pulled her toward him and said softly, "C'mere". His arms went around her waist, while he widened his stance and pulled her into the v of his legs. She felt the heat surge through her body, as her arms encircled his neck of their own volition.

_How does he do this to me with such a casual movement?_ This was exactly what she was trying to avoid this morning. With the psych evaluation looming on the horizon, she didn't want Danny Messer messing with her head.

"The ankle all better?" he asked casually.

Glad to have a topic that seemed benign, she looked down at her feet and replied, "Yeah, I started putting weight on it yesterday and today it seems to be holding up so far… so…" She looked up to see him staring at her but not really listening to what she was saying.

She stared into blue eyes, which were the color of the ocean on a soft, breezy, spring day, and knew she never wanted to go a day without looking into those eyes.

He finally spoke again, this time very softly, "Take down your hair."

Without a word and without breaking her lock on his eyes, she undid the clasp holding her hair. He took it from her hand and tossed it on to the table, next to the coffee cups. When he placed his hand back on her waist, she tossed her head a couple of times to settle her hair more naturally around her face.

"There, that's the woman that I've been with for the past three days," he said huskily

Her heart raced. _How does he do this to me with such a casual statement?_

He bent his head to graze his lips across hers and suddenly she knew that wasn't enough for her. She splayed her fingers along his cheeks and neck and he obligingly deepened the kiss. Their tongues engaged in an exquisite dance that heightened their breathing to shallow gasps for air. A whimper escaped from the back of her throat and with a groan he removed his lips from hers and briefly looked up at the ceiling before returning to lean his forehead against hers.

A few moments passed before he finally spoke. "Whatever goes on out there, I don't want it to change what we have in here, okay?" he said emotionally.

She knew exactly what he meant. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "It won't, I promise." Then she tightened her arms around his neck drawing his head into her neck. He buried his face in her hair as his arms tightened around her waist.

She waited until he said, "Let's go," before she released her hold on him.


	38. The Dress

**Author's Note:** Okay we have to get this show on the road and get these two in bed by Christmas time... don't we? So on with the story! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews... you keep me writing!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Dress

When Danny pulled up outside IAB, five minutes before Lindsay's appointment she quickly leaned over to touch her lips to his. He captured the back of her neck with one of his hands and whispered into her ear. "You'll do fine, but call me when you're done, okay?"

He dropped his hand and she pulled back nodding her head at him as she slid out of the SUV. He watched her walk quickly across the sidewalk and into the building before driving away. Ten minutes later he was in the lab running the stray prints through the databases. He narrowed the search entries to prints, which had been entered within the last 24 hours, hoping it would yield something new.

_Beep!_

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" he said as he rubbed his hands together in hopes of a break in the case.

The match displayed a picture of a woman, in the missing person's database, who looked vaguely familiar. Where had he seen her before? He racked his brain! It didn't take long for the memory to return. There had been a framed photograph beside the bed of the second oldest murdered child. The photo was of the child and this woman. He remembered the father saying that this child was his, with another woman. That woman was his first wife, who had been absent from the child's life for the past 2 years, for mental health reasons. He also recalled the father saying that his current family had only lived in the apartment for the past six months. So, there was no apparent reason that the woman would have been in the apartment before that time, so he reasoned that she must have been there within the last 6 months, possibly as late as yesterday morning. Bingo! This was the kind of lead for which he was looking.

He made a quick call on his cell.

"Flack… gotta hit on some prints, both in and out, of the apartment from yesterday's family murder case," Danny blurted out.

"Yeah, she's a missing person from an outpatient mental health program in Brooklyn," he explained, as he glanced back at the computer screen.

"Great, I'll meet you outside in five!"

He sent the info to the printer and glanced at his watch. Better send Lindsay a quick text message. He'd have to talk with her later, as he had no choice but to run with this right now.

He grabbed the printouts, hurried out of the lab and down the hall. He practically knocked Stella down by studying the printouts instead of looking where he was going.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Stella said as Danny grabbed her arm to keep her upright.

"Gotta a lead on yesterday's family murder… meetin' Flack outside," Danny said in a rush.

"Anything I can do to help out? My case is wrapped up and I'm on my way out for the rest of the afternoon."

"Nah, Stel, it is okay, I know you deserve some time off as much as the rest of us."

"Okay, I won't keep you, but quickly, how's Lindsay?"

_Oh right, Lindsay_. Ignoring Stella's question he said, "Stella, maybe you _can_ help me out. Lindsay is wrapping up her psych eval at noon today and now I've got to track down this suspect, can you…"

"Say no more," as she held up a palm in understanding. "I'll swing by IAB and pick her up for lunch."

"Thanks, Stella!" he said, as the relief shown on his face. "I know she can probably handle it, but it would be nice if someone were there for her, just in case."

Stella gave Danny a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. "Don't worry, she'll be in good hands. Now get going!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Lindsay read her text messages as she stepped out of the shrink's office. She had felt her phone vibrating, when she was finishing up her eval.

_Got a lead. Call you later_.

"Lindsay"

She turned toward the voice, to see Stella walking towards her.

"Hi Stella," she replied with a smile, as she put away her phone.

"How about lunch?"

Lindsay nodded, "Sure."

They found a little deli a few blocks from IAB and chatted amicably as they ate their sandwiches. When they finished, they left the deli and began strolling back to Stella's car.

"Look at that!" Stella exclaimed as she veered suddenly over to a boutique window. She was eyeing a red, tight, plunging neck-lined number that had called to her from across the sidewalk. "Isn't it just gorgeous? You could really turn heads in that!" she commented appreciatively as she glanced at Lindsay for confirmation

Only you, thought Lindsay. She could never pull something like that off. She didn't have Stella's tall willowy figure and ample bosom. But, to save face, as to why she would never wear something like that, she replied, "Stella that is definitely you, but this one over here is more my style."

Stella looked at the dress Lindsay was indicating and snorted, "What? Lindsay, that is for women, who either can't wear anything else because they have no assets, to speak of, or they just don't give a flip how they look."

Lindsay rolled her eyes slightly. Sometimes Stella could be so dramatic.

Stella continued, "Lindsay, you have great taste for the understated, professional work look, but I know hot and if I were going to choose for you…" Stella trailed off as she surveyed the dresses in the window. Deep in thought, she murmured, "Know what?" She glanced quickly at Lindsay with a glint in her eyes, and said, "They don't have the perfect dress for you in the window; we'll just have to go in."

"Stella," Lindsay exclaimed, as Stella grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door.

"Lindsay, do you have something better to do this afternoon?" Stella asked, with a laugh in her voice.

"Well no…" Lindsay replied shaking her head.

"Neither do I! Besides, I'm off and one of the best ways I know to enjoy my time off is to shop."

They whooshed into the shop and elegance overwhelmed Lindsay in sight, sound and smell. This was no bargain shop with racks and racks of dresses to choose from. This was exclusive! The dresses were strategically displayed here and there, coupled with accessories to suggest a complete ensemble for any special occasion that one had in mind. With soft lighting, classical music throughout and a slight scent of musk hanging in the air, Lindsay knew this was a posh shop from which she could never afford to buy. Stella; however, ushered her forward as a discreet saleswoman greeted them in a low, husky voice.

"Can I help you find something?"

With all the confidence of a native New Yorker and a woman of style, Stella oozed, "Why yes, we are looking for an elegant ensemble for my friend here. She has a special evening planned, with a very special someone, and she needs just the right look."

The woman gave Stella a knowing look and scrutinized Lindsay up and down for a moment, before turning and calling over her shoulder, "I have just what she needs, this way please."

Lindsay looked incredulously at Stella, clutched her arm and whispered frantically, "Stella! What are you doing? I have no special evening planned!"

Stella looked at her slyly, "You will after that special someone sees you in this getup."

Stella was following the woman now and Lindsay kept pace with her, trying again to deter her. "Stella, there is no way I can afford to spend this kind of money." But Stella was ignoring Lindsay, as she pulled up short next to the saleswoman.

Lindsay turned her head to the display. "Wow!" was all she could say. The dress was a rich chocolate hue, in a soft draping fabric that clung to the curves of the mannequin seductively, without being vulgarly tight. It fell in a soft swirl, a few inches above the mannequin's knees. It was a halter style dress, similar to the red one in the window that Stella had admired, but not in that dramatic plunging way. It had just enough plunge to hint at the curves hidden beneath the shirred fabric in the bodice, but enough cover to tantalize and tease as to what lie beneath the silky fabric. But the most beautiful aspect of the dress was the delicate flowers worked subtly across the surface of the dress in a light catching bronze filigree. The effect was astounding, as the light was mirrored across the filigree in an undulating manner.

Lindsay felt compelled, beyond reason, to own a dress such as this, so she gulped and squeaked out, "Do you have it in a size 2?"

The saleswoman smiled, at the assurance of a major sale, and Stella wrapped an arm around Lindsay's shoulders in a quick squeeze. "Nothing like an exquisite dress to make one's day, is there?" Stella gushed.

All Lindsay could do was nod in agreement. _Oh, this is going to cost me so much money!_

Exiting the shop, much later, Lindsay could barely believe what she had purchased. Not only had she purchased the exquisite cocktail dress, but a pair of delicate, bronze colored, strappy, high heeled sandals, a pair of dangling bronze earrings to match and two pairs of nude colored thigh high stockings. Backups, Stella had knowingly called the extra pair of stockings. Stella had said even if you don't need stockings, the thigh high variety was worth wearing just for the hotness factor alone. It drove men wild, when you dropped the dress to the floor and they saw you in those high heeled shoes and thigh high stockings. Lindsay had blushed when Stella had revealed this last nugget of wisdom to her and Stella had laughed endearingly at her as she said, "We'll make a New Yorker out of you yet!"

"Oops the time," Stella exclaimed as she glanced at her watch. "I'm meeting someone for drinks? Do you want me to drop you somewhere?"

"No Stella," Lindsay said with a small slightly rueful smile. "You've done more than enough for me already. In fact, I'll be working quite a bit of overtime, from now until Easter, with all that you've done for me today."

Stella grinned. "It will be worth it, I promise!" Stella assured, as they embraced quickly.

Stella walked quickly off to her car and Lindsay hailed a cab.

When Stella was in her car, she pulled out her phone and keyed in a quick text message and hit send. She smiled as she put the phone away, started her car and maneuvered into the afternoon traffic.

Two minutes later, Danny received a text message which he promptly checked in hopes that it was from Lindsay. But it wasn't, it was from Stella:

_You owe me, BIG!_

Hmmm! Danny thought, as he rubbed his chin in vexation. He hoped everything was okay with Lindsay. He was dialing Lindsay's number when Flack called him over. Later, he thought, as he put his phone away.


	39. The Argument

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

The Argument

Lindsay got into the taxi in a daze and gave the driver her destination. Her mind was swirling, not only from the amount of cash she had just dropped, but from the thoughts that were playing delightfully in her mind of the moment when _that special someone_ would see her in her new purchase. She sighed in happy resignation, as she knew Stella was right, that is, when Stella said it would be worth it.

The taxi driver broke her thoughts when he announced the cab fare. She blinked herself back to the present, pulled out the cash, paid him, stepped out of the taxi with her purchases and gave a start. She was standing in front of her apartment building. Talk about déjà vu, she must have distractedly given him her home address instead of Danny's.

Oh well she thought nervously. There is no time like the present. Besides, she needed to stash her dress in her apartment where Danny wouldn't see it before she was ready to wear it for him.

As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, in trepidation, her legs weakened and her heart rate increased with each step she climbed. When she reached her door, she turned her back to it and leaned against it gratefully, to catch her breath and allow her legs time to stiffen into some manner of support for the rest of her body. She wasn't cognizant of how long she rested like that, but only of the phone ringing her out of her recovery trance. She pulled it out with trembling hands and flipped it open without looking at caller id.

"Lindsay," she said a little shakily into the receiver.

"_Lindsay, are ya alright?"_ Danny asked a little worriedly. He had picked up on the slight tremor in her voice immediately.

She paused for a moment before she answered. "Yeah, um I think so…. "

_"What's up? Did the eval go okay this morning?"_ he asked, encouraging her to continue.

"Oh that…" she said distractedly, as that seemed eons ago now and completely out of range of her coherent thought.

_"Lindsay?"_ Danny queried a little more forcefully.

She shook some composure back into her head and replied a bit more steadily. "I'm fine... really… I'm just standing in front of my apartment door deciding whether or not to go inside."

_"Damn," _he swore softly. _"Lindsay, couldn't you have waited until I could be there with you?" _

"It wasn't planned," she babbled in explanation. "I was distracted and must have given the taxi driver my address by default."

_"Okay I can be there in 30,"_ and then as an afterthought, _"if you want me there."_

"Could you really, Danny? Yes, I do… want you here." she replied gratefully.

_"Hang tight!"_ and he clicked the phone shut and headed out to battle the afternoon traffic.

Lindsay sunk down in front of her door in relief. Danny was coming! She was so relieved and grateful. But as her heart rate slowed to a more manageable rate and her legs returned to their normal, weight bearing state, she replayed everything that had happened in the past several days. Then she thought about Laurel. She missed Laurel terribly and would love her eternally, but there was no way she could ever bring her back. The only thing she could do now was to go forward with her life and live it to the fullest, in bittersweet remembrance of Laurel and in utter defiance of the s.o.b. that had taken Laurel's beautiful life. She vowed, then and there, that Laurel's killer would not rob her of one more second of _her_ life. And with those thoughts firmly etched in her mind, she stood up, fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door.

She pushed the door open, took a step inside and flipped on the lamp on the table beside the door. She dropped her very expensive boutique purchases on the couch and quickly went around the apartment opening the blinds, dispelling the darkness, not only in the physical space of her apartment, but also in the intangible and sacred space of her heart, soul and mind. She righted the overturned stool, pushed it back into its place under the counter, picked the cast iron skillet up off the floor, lovingly washed it in the sink, and put it in a place of honor on the stove. She went into the living room, gathered her purchases and put them away in anticipation of wearing them soon for Danny. She picked the bat off the bedroom floor, took it into the bathroom and rinsed off all traces of Laurel's killer. She walked back into the bedroom and placed it carefully beside the bed where she vowed it would be every night for the rest of her life. Then she slipped out of her work attire and into something more relaxed. She felt more at home and more like herself, than she had since Laurel had died.

"Lindsay!" Danny yelled from the other side of her apartment door. Before she could get to the door to unlock it, he had it unlocked, with his key, was inside, his eyes searching for any sign of her in the apartment.

"Danny," she said reassuringly, greeting him with a pearly white smile spread across her face.

He stopped short and stared at her. It wasn't what he expected to see, after their earlier phone conversation. There was a light in her eyes that he couldn't ever remember seeing before and she had doffed her work attire for the far more relaxed look he had come to favor. The fitted, red, capped sleeve t-shirt had the words, 'Country Girl', tantalizingly scrolled across her chest, and her low slung jeans hung seductively around her hips and slapped rhythmically against the wood floor as she walked, in bare feet, toward him. He could see that teasing, inch or so, of bare skin around her waist that he immediately wanted to caress. The red in her t-shirt brought out the burnished highlights in that wavy tangle around her face. Why, the woman was positively oozing sweet, simple, overwhelming happiness and raw, mind numbing sex appeal all at the same time.

_Leave it to a country girl!_ He nodded appreciatively as she approached him.

"Didn't your mama ever tell you it was rude to stare, Cowboy?" she teased as she pulled up short, in front of him.

"My ma tried hard, but good manners ain't never been my strong suite," he returned with a smirk.

"What _is_ your strong suite then?" she said seductively as she made his personal space her own and slid her palms up his chest and around his neck.

"It's not something that is easily put into words, Montana. I'm much better at demonstratin'!" he said, in a voice a shade lower than before and desire burning intensely in his eyes.

She inched up on her tiptoes in order to sigh into his ear, "You know what I say?" He still hadn't touched her and she didn't think she could go a second longer without some initiative on his part. "Talk is cheap, so show me!"

That was all he needed to hear. His hands found the bare skin around her waist and slid around to her back, spreading his fingers over both her upper and lower back, to initiate as much skin to skin contact as possible. His lips claimed hers in an intensity that sent tremors to the very core of her being. She returned his kiss with equal fervor and her hands scrabbled wildly at the back of his neck. She lifted a leg to his waist and he obligingly ran his hand along her rear-end and thigh to hike her other leg around his waist. Her inner thighs tightened instinctively around him and he broke the kiss momentarily to strangle out, "Bedroom?" All she could do was whimper in response, which he took as a resounding yes.

BRRRINNGG!

Lindsay gave a visible start as she pulled back from Danny.

"Ignore it" Danny whispered urgently.

"Stop, Danny!" she said forcefully as they approached the bedroom door. He paused and searched her face for some clue as to what was going through her mind.

"C'mon Lindsay, it's not your cell. Let the machine pick up," he said earnestly.

BRRRINNGG!

"Let me go, Danny," she said almost frantically, pushing against his chest and trying to squirm her legs out of his grip. But he didn't want to let her go. He could see the terror in her eyes, the terror he hadn't seen since that day in the hospital when he had made that triggering comment to her. He wanted, desperately, to make it better for her, as soon as possible, to put them back into the moment they had been in not 5 seconds ago.

She managed to struggle out of his hold and run to the phone. She yanked up the receiver as it jarred out the third ring.

"Leave me alone you fucking s.o.b.!" she shouted into the phone.

Hearing Lindsay swear like that, bolted Danny into action. Within a split second he was behind her, taking the receiver from her trembling hand and clipping out, "Who the hell is this?"

He shook his head slightly and replied a little more calmly, "Sorry, no George here." He clicked the receiver back into the cradle and dropped to his knees, gathering Lindsay into his arms, who by now, was sobbing hysterically.

"Lindsay… Lindsay, it's okay… I'm right here," he murmured as he picked her up and sat down on the couch with her in his lap.

After a few minutes, she wiped the remaining tears out of her eyes, pulled back and looked into his eyes, disbelief and fear clearly displayed in her own eyes. "Danny, I thought it was him!"

"Who... Who did you think it was?" he asked, almost sure he knew the answer.

" Laurel's killer," she said faintly, with a faraway look in her eyes.

" Laurel's killer called you?" Danny asked anxiously. "When?" he asked as he nervously licked his lips.

"The night… the night we were supposed to… the night I stood you up," she finally finished with an apologetic look in her eyes.

"Fuck, Lindsay, that was weeks ago! Why didn't you tell me then?" he said with anger in his voice.

"How could I have told you something like that?" she asked incredulously. The words tumbled from her mouth, "At the time, you knew nothing about Laurel, or the murders and I wasn't even sure it was him. I thought maybe I had imagined the whole thing, so I pushed it to the back of my mind."

"You mean you blew it off!" he nearly shouted at her as he lifted her off his lap and placed her on the couch beside him, so he could free himself to start pacing the floor.

It made her angry that he yelled at her and she lashed back at him. "What are you saying, Danny?" as she sprang up to place herself in the middle of his pacing path, effectively blocking his movement.

"Do you know how dangerous that was… for you… for…" he didn't finish as he ran a hand through his hair and his eyes snapped like tiny blue flames.

Her eyes narrowed. "You think that it's my fault… the murder… here… in New York!"

"That's not what I said, Lindsay!" he ground out, his face mere inches from hers.

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" she accused him and her heart was beating so wildly she thought it was going to thump right out of her chest.

The thought had briefly entered his mind but he wasn't about to put that on Lindsay. There are so many factors involved in the committing of a crime. There are no guarantees whether a crime will be committed or even if it can be prevented, regardless of whether one has prior knowledge or not. He was truly more concerned about her safety, about her having to bear this burden alone than about placing blame. Oftentimes his emotions caused things to come out, not quite the way he meant them. But how to convince Lindsay of that was the tricky part. He paused and calmed himself before he spoke again.

"Lindsay, your safety and well being is the main concern to me. Hell, all I want to do is to be with you and take care of you, I've told you that," he exclaimed in pure frustration.

But Lindsay's emotions had her mind stalled on his previous statements. "Danny, I don't need you to take care of me. I already a have a mother… in Montana… one that is a crack shot at reminding me how often I've screwed up… how Laurel's murder was my fault. I don't need another person like that in my life!"

His emotions overwhelmed him again at the tortured thread in her voice and her unwillingness to believe him. He was barely able to choke out, "Lindsay, it's not like that at all, I swear." He tried to grab her hands but she jerked back and a veil went over her eyes, effectively shutting him out.

"Danny, I can't do this right now… I want you to leave," she said in an amazingly calm voice.

He hated it when she did that… just turned off all the emotion. He knew it was there, but she had removed herself from it. It was her way of coping with a difficult situation. She needed time. He knew the routine, but fuck, if he didn't have the hardest time dealing with it.

"Okay, Lindsay, I'll go, I'll give you time, but this is not over, I'll be back" he clipped out in the most controlled voice he could muster, even though he knew he failed miserably. His emotions were writhing and seething and they needed to be aired and soothed, not put on the back burner.

She turned her face away from him.

He turned on his heels and left, slamming the door in his wake.

As he jogged down the stairs of her apartment building, he mentally cursed himself for getting involved with such a complex woman. But that's how it is with life. What doesn't kill you will surely make you stronger and the thing that you love most about a person is always the thing that drives you the craziest. _So fuck me! I'm not dead yet, but I'm slowly being driven crazy! _

He needed something to take his mind off things until Lindsay came around. Some way to expend all the emotion that was boiling just beneath the surface, or he was going to put his fist through a wall. He glanced at his watch as he exited the building. _Perfect timing!_ He would have much rather done this with Lindsay, but he could find a quick substitute, he reasoned, as he strode down the sidewalk with a destination already in mind.


	40. Saving Ass!

**Author's Note:** You reviewers have been the best... your reviews just keep getting more detailed about what touched you, what didn't, what you liked and what you didn't like... thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I hope you like this chapter... I have to admit I think I was influenced by NeverMindDream and her Danny's Diary again. LOL! So without further ado let's see where Danny went off to and what Lindsay is going to do about it!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Saving Ass!

Lindsay didn't know how long she stared at the door after Danny left, but eventually her emotions broke through and she threw herself face down on the couch and bawled. She bawled because she felt guilty that, by ignoring the call, she allowed the killer to murder that woman here in New York. And it was her pain, over being the brunt of her mother's blame for Laurel's murder, which had caused her to lash out at Danny. None of this was his fault. He was right; he was only trying to be here for her, just as she tried to be there for her mother after Laurel's death. Was _she_ becoming just like _her mother_? _God, what a sobering thought!_ This little epiphany catapulted her into action. She grabbed her cell phone and quickly dialed Danny's number. It rang several times and went to voice mail. She didn't want to talk to voice mail; she wanted to talk to him! She paced around her apartment, trying to think of what to do next. She hoped he wasn't out doing something reckless. She paced some more and finally decided to go look for him. She was too keyed up to sit in her apartment anyway, waiting for him to call her. She quickly sent him a text message that said _'Sorry – Call Me'_ and headed out.

Two hours later after making the rounds of Danny's apartment, some CSI hangouts and a call to the night shift at the lab, she still hadn't located him. She turned toward home and the depressing thought seeped into her consciousness that maybe he didn't want to talk to her or be found. She wearily boarded the subway bound for her apartment. When she emerged from the subway station nearest her apartment, her cell rang. She quickly identified the caller, as Danny, and flipped it open.

"Where the _hell _have you been?" she greeted him frantically.

_"Montaaannnaaa,"_ he slurred into the phone. She could hear the background noise of a large screen TV, drinks clinking, multiple conversations being held and then a cheer went around and she couldn't hear what Danny said next.

When the cheer ceased, she tried again. "Danny-, where- are- you-?" she mouthed distinctly into the phone.

_"I just watched the Knicks kick ass with 100 of my closest buddies and now we're celebratin'. Ain't that right, guys?"_ He didn't give them time to answer, before he slurred out, _"Say 'hello to Montaaannnaaa', guys!"_ She heard a deafening _"Hello Montaaannnaaa!"_ from what sounded like 100 of Danny's closest, _drunken_ buddies.

Danny, where are you?" she tried for the third time.

_"I'm at Buster's, right around the corner from your place. Ain't that convenient,"_ he said rather pleased with himself.

"Danny, don't go anywhere, I'll be right there!" she said, with relief and resignation. At least she had located him and he was okay.

_"Baby, are you comin' to celebrate with us?"_ he asked in a downright giddy manner.

"Uh huh… something like that…" she muttered as she headed up the sidewalk towards Buster's.

_"Did I tell ya that the Knicks kicked ass, Baby? It was against those sissy-assed Lakers. I always knew they lived too pampered of a life out there in LA. It softens 'em up. They ain't tough like our Knicks, who have to survive the gritty New York streets."_

She kept him talking on the phone until she reached the bar and located him. Thank goodness it was close to her place, because Danny was a little unsteady on his feet. He stumbled to her and embraced her, reeking of alcohol, sweat and smoke. She had to admit, though, he was a happy drunk, much better than a sappy, sad, slobbery or belligerent drunk and it felt so reassuring to be in his arms again after the last several hours of frantic worrying. She broke the embrace, grabbed the hand of the arm hanging around her shoulders and slid her other arm around his waist.

"Come on, Cowboy, I think you've had enough fun for one night."

Danny weaved toward the door, calling over his shoulder triumphantly in parting, "Hey guys, I'm goin' home with Montaaannnaaa and I think I'm gonna get lucky!"

_Yeah, lucky I came and dragged your sorry ass out of this bar!_ The thought was _scary_ because it was doubtful whether Danny knew anyone at the bar. This wasn't his neighborhood. With the drunken stupor he was in right now, he could have easily taken to the streets alone and got himself mugged or, even worse, killed. Lindsay shuddered at this thought. Not only could she _not_ carry _that_ guilt, she couldn't imagine being without him for one day. When he was sober, she would make it up to him. But the challenge, facing her now, was getting him back to her apartment so he could sleep this off.

When she finally got Danny into her apartment, she guided him to her bed. She disentangled her arms from him, but he wasn't letting go of her. Before she knew it, he free fell onto her bed, taking her with him. He laid a big slobbery kiss on her cheek. _Okay, maybe there is a tad of slobbery drunk in him._

"Uh, uh, not tonight!" she said, as she tried again to pry away his arms. She looked up at his drunken, smirking face and she smiled sweetly, while she moved her hands to his ribs and began tickling him. It worked like a charm. He released her instantly, as he groaned and laughed at the same time.

"Ya play dirty, Montaannaa!" he accused, as he craned his head up to survey her, down the length of his body, while she up righted herself beside the bed.

"I do what it takes, Cowboy," she replied dryly, as she pulled off his shoes. When he made a grab for her as she unclipped his phone and badge, she decided he could sleep it off in his clothes.

She gathered some stuff, with which to sleep, out on the couch, and glanced over at Danny as she was leaving the room. He was out cold. The soft light from the lamp glinted off his glasses. Oops, she better take those off. She tiptoed over and gently removed his glasses and laid them on the bedside table. She laid a hand along his jaw and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. If he hadn't completely sprawled himself diagonally across her bed, she would have snuggled up to him regardless of the bar smells emanating from his clothes. He was just that hot and she hadn't slept without him beside her for the past several nights. He was like a drug for her and she was completely addicted, with no 12 step program in sight. But there was no room for her on the bed. She could try to move him, but he might wake up and she didn't want a repeat of the earlier grabbing session. She was not about to have her first time with Danny be with him in a drunken state. _No, I want him hard up, sober, emphasis on the 'hard', 'up' and 'sober'. _

The next morning, Lindsay awoke, with a start, to the ringing of a cell phone. She groped her hand along the coffee table, until her hand closed around the offending object. She was tempted to stow it under her pillow, but she didn't want Danny to catch heat if it was important. Instead, she id'ed the caller. It was Mac. She flipped it open.

"Morning, Mac. It's Lindsay." If Mac was surprised that she answered Danny's phone, he didn't show it.

_"Morning, Lindsay. I take it that Danny's indisposed."_

"Um, yeah, he's feeling a little under the weather."

_"What's he come down with?"_

This interest in Danny's health seemed a tad bit odd for Mac.

"Oh, you know flu-like symptoms, dizziness, nausea…" Oops, there went a white lie. What is it with her and Mac and little white lies? Well, she didn't actually say he _had_ the flu.

Mac cleared his throat. "_This wouldn't have anything to do with the big win, the Knicks posted over the Lakers last night, would it?"_

Lindsay pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief, Mac was either psychic or he had been in that bar last night.

_"Lindsay? Are you still there?"_

She quickly put the phone back to her ear. "How did you know?" Lindsay asked with surprise registering in her voice.

Mac laughed out loud. _"Danny routinely schedules his days off to coincide with the day after big games. I suspect it allows him to celebrate, or mourn, whichever the case may be, in proper style."_

Lindsay laughed. "Well, he did it in proper style last night!" Then she said on a more serious note, "Is there something you needed from him?"

_"I need him for a few hours in the lab. We have several cases that came in at once with some very time-sensitive evidence that needs to be processed as soon as possible, but I can see now, that calling him in is out of the question."_

Lindsay blurted out. "I can come in." Then she held her breath, waiting for Mac's answer.

There was a pause while she heard some papers shuffling. "_Ok, I've got your eval here, but I haven't had a chance to review it. I'll do that, while you're on your way in and if I find anything iffy, we'll chat when you get here, otherwise I could certainly use you in the lab today." _

"Thanks Mac, I'm on my way."

Lindsay quickly readied herself for work, taking care not to wake Danny. She need not have bothered. He was still out cold, except now he was sprawled face down on her bed, breathing heavily. If she didn't have to go in today, she could really have some fun with him, she thought, recalling her slumber party days with her childhood friends. She giggled hysterically, to herself, picturing Danny waking up, sporting hot pink nail polish and bright red lipstick. Ah well, she was sure there would be other nights of intense celebrations, after big games, of which she could take advantage.

------------------------------------

Lindsay was excited to be back in the lab. Mac quickly briefed her and she set to work. The work was engrossing, as usual, and she barely noticed the time slipping by. When she hit a lull, waiting on results, she walked down to the break room to grab a snack. When she entered the break room, Stella and Flack were over by the water cooler, chatting. _No big surprise there!_

She walked up to them and greeted them cheerfully, "Hey, guys."

They turned toward her with grins on their faces.

"Well speak of the devil, I guess everything checked out with the shrink." Stella practically purred.

"Yeah and boy am I glad to be back in the lab!" Lindsay replied gratefully.

Flack gave that sardonic sideways grin of his and quipped, "Why? Has Messer not been behavin' himself?" To which he added quickly with a bit more seriousness, "Cause if he hasn't, I'd be happy to whip up on him in a friendly little game of b-ball."

"No, no, he's been a perfect gentleman…" Lindsay said shaking her head. "except for last night," she muttered under her breath before she realized what she had said. She blushed and hoped that Stella and Flack hadn't caught that last comment.

"What about last night?" Stella asked sweetly.

Lindsay's eyes just widened and any deflecting comment she could have made got jammed somewhere between her brain and her mouth

"C'mon Monroe, spill your guts or we'll have to haul you off to interrogation," Flack threatened in mock seriousness.

Man, this was getting brutal; she should have never left the lab! "Um, nothing really," she stammered, "Danny just celebrated a little too much over the Knicks win last night. He's sleeping it off now."

"Are you sure that is all, there is to it?" Stella inquired slyly.

_RING!_

"That would be me," Lindsay squeaked out quickly.

She turned and walked out of the break room, while she retrieved her phone. She answered it without checking caller id; she was so thankful to have respite from the probing questions and teasing remarks of Stella and Flack.

"Whoever you are," she said gratefully into the phone, "you just saved my life."

"_I could say the same to you,"_ quipped a very welcoming voice.

Her heart did a little flip as she ducked into the supply room. She quickly glanced around to make sure no one was in there before she replied.

"So, I see you've rejoined the living, Messer!" she teased.

_"Yup,"_ he said with an exaggerated sigh, _"with that huge Knicks' win over the Lakers last night, I figured it might be worth hanging out in this world a little while longer." _

She cringed at that remark! She wasn't sure if he was subtly referring to his state of mind when he left her apartment last night and her role in it, or not. But since he wasn't coming right out and saying anything about it, she decided to wade into the deep end through the back door. _Let's see who cracks first! _

"So does this mean you're going to go off and get drunk every time there's a big game and _then _call me to come drag your sorry ass safely back home?" she joshed him quite playfully.

_"Only when you shut me out and then kick me out, like you did last night,"_ he joshed back, but she could hear the slightly steely tone laced within the tease.

Touché! she thought. This wasn't fair, he didn't need to suffer because of her issues. He had been there every time for her, the least she could do was meet him halfway.

"Danny, I'm really sorry about last night," she said softly. "It wasn't fair for me to take my pain and frustration out on you."

_" Montana, it's okay. I can take the angry and frustrating words all day long, it's the silence that I can't take. Next time, promise me that you'll, at least, try talking to me before you shut me out…okay… that's all I ask."_

She could hear the pain and the need in his voice, and the tears welled up in her eyes. She scrubbed them away furiously with her free hand and tried not to sniffle into the phone.

_"Lindsay, are ya there?"_

"I'm here," she said with a sniff.

_"Aw Montana, ya aren't cryin' are ya?"_

"Noooo!" she denied sheepishly and yielded to another big sniff to clear her head.

_"Liar!"_ he teased.

"Okay, what do you want me to say?" she said in slight frustration.

_"I want you to say,' yes',"_

"Yes to what," she asked warily.

_"To going out with me tonight."_

Her heart gave a jolt, while fiery warmth surged throughout her entire body. "Of course I'll go out with you tonight!" she declared. She hoped she hadn't sounded too eager. Her mom had warned her about that.

He chuckled. _"Okay then, I'll pick ya up at 7. Wear something nice!"_

"Alright, I'll see you tonight."

_"I'm looking forward to it"_ he said huskily.

"Me too," she replied softly.

After she put away the phone, she hugged herself and sing-songed under her breath. _"I'm going out with Danny Messer." _


	41. Second Time Around

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Second Time Around

After the phone conversation with Danny, the day could not move fast enough. When she left the lab a little after 5, she practically ran to the subway. She knew it was going to be crowded, this time of the day, but she would gladly cram herself into the first available train, even if she had to stand underneath someone's smelly armpit as they hung onto the bars in the middle of the aisle. Being rather petite in stature, this happened to her a lot. Sometimes she felt she would rather walk the 20 blocks to her apartment, than to be crammed into the subway like a sardine. The subway was the thing she liked least about New York. It made her miss the wide open spaces of Montana. But today… today it didn't matter because she was going out with the handsomest and hottest man in all of New York, _and _Montana for that matter. She had just one little stop to make on the way home.

Once she alighted from the subway and was topside again, she ducked into the little corner store near her apartment to pick up some condoms. She didn't have any in her apartment, she felt sure, since she hadn't slept with anyone since coming to New York, over a year ago. _Lord that was a long time to… never mind_. And she certainly didn't want to put off being with Danny one more time, because she wasn't prepared. Isn't that the Girl Scout motto, 'Be Prepared'? That was ironic, she thought, because she was quite sure what she would be doing tonight, with Danny, would not be considered appropriate Girl Scout conduct.

"Lindsay," she heard a familiar voice call her name.

She whipped around. It was her Uncle Fred coming towards her with his arms outstretched. _What is he doing in this part of town?_

She quickly remembered the condoms in her hand and hid them behind her back as she walked up and gave her uncle a one-armed hug.

"I was in the neighborhood visiting a friend, when I thought I would stop by and see if you were home… you know say, 'hi'. Lucky I saw you duck in here or we might have missed each other," he explained.

_Yeah, real lucky. What am I going to do? I can't tell the man I have a date, while I'm holding a box of condoms in my hand. That would be too… too… she couldn't even finish the thought._

"Uncle Fred, it was great bumping into you, but I've got an appointment in a few minutes that I've got to get to, so I'll just be on my way… 'cause it's important… and I don't want to be late." The words tumbled out of her mouth of their own accord. What a little white liar she had become. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, in parting.

"I'll walk and talk with you, while you check out. That way, at least we can catch up a little bit," he offered.

_Holy crap, what am I going to do?_

"Um… okay… good idea…" she stammered.

_Quick! Lindsay grab something, anything, to take the focus off your other little **ahem **purchase._

She grabbed the first thing she focused on, a bunch of bananas, and walked quickly to the check out aisle with Uncle Fred close on her heels. She set the condoms and bananas down together with the bananas strategically placed on top of the condoms. Then she turned to Uncle Fred, to engage him in conversation, while the cashier rang up her items. She glanced back at the cashier quickly and saw him give her a strange look, as he placed the items in a bag. She knew her face was slowly turning from pink to red. She quickly handed over the money and departed. She said her goodbyes to Uncle Fred and hurried to her apartment.

Back in her apartment, the hilarity of the whole situation hit her. Condoms and bananas! Off all the things she could have chosen, she chose bananas! No wonder the cashier had given her an odd look. _Lindsay, you looked like such a pervert and you didn't even realize it!_ Oh god, she thought, as she slapped her forehead in disbelief. She hoped this was not an indication of how things were going to go tonight. She did not want to come across as some bumbling, naive, little country girl. Particularly around a smooth city boy like Daniel Messer!

As she readied for her date, she took great care that everything would have the effect of teasing, tantalizing and seducing. She wanted him begging for it, the minute he saw her! She carefully fastened her hair up to resemble a chaotically ordered mass of curls with plenty of tendrils dangling around her neck, just begging for certain fingers to twirl in them. She knew Danny preferred her hair down, but this way he'd have to agonize over the moment when her hair _would finally come down_. The underwear was low cut, simply white, and lacy. There was no bra, because she would be wearing the halter dress she bought with Stella yesterday. That made her feel a bit nervous, but at least the dress was lined so there wouldn't be any embarrassing moments if she got a little cold. The thigh high stockings were a sensual boon for her. She had never worn a pair before, but when she strapped on her delicate bronze sandals and surveyed herself in the full length mirror, she was very pleased with what she saw. She may not be model tall, rail thin and synthetically breasted but she was young, shapely and well toned, with curves in all the right places. Finally, she carefully pulled the buy of the decade over her head, and let it settle like a liquid, shimmering cloud around her body. It was such an exquisite dress and she was so thankful that Stella had talked her into it! She felt like she could compete with all the fashionable and sexy New York women in a dress like this. She finished with the dangling bronze earrings, added a light touch of mascara and lipstick, for a bit of sparkle, and dabbed herself, in all the sensual places, with the perfume she had worn when she went to the opera.

She was ready!

_Knock, Knock! _

Her stomach dropped as anxiety overtook her. Oh god, no she wasn't ready! This was too much pressure. It was one thing to be messing around with Messer, just hanging out and having fun, but now… but now this was the real deal. Even though she wanted this and badly, she didn't know if she could live up to the moment. Suddenly she did feel like a bumbling, naïve, little country girl.

_Knock, Knock! _

_"Lindsay!" _

_Get moving, Lindsay!_ _Fear is no place from which to operate your life!_ She prodded herself to walk across the bedroom and into the living room.

Just as she entered the living room, Danny had unlocked the door with his key and entered the apartment. As he was pulling the key out of the door, he started talking.

" Montana, I could die from hunger out there waitin' for ya to…" The rest of the sentence died in his throat as she stood, in the living room, firmly rooted to a spot about 5 feet in front of him.

"Daaammmnnnn Montana," he croaked out, as his mouth gaped open. He had been hoping for the opera dress. He thought that _blue_ was her color. But this chocolate concoction that flowed seductively along her curves, to end several inches above her knees, put the opera dress to shame.

Lindsay felt her stomach calming and her confidence returning at his reaction. He looked amazing in a dark forest green suit that was fashionably cut and a tan dress shirt that emphasized his chest muscles. He was wearing a tie too! She had never seen him wear a tie before and it made him look incredibly dashing. Ties were the male equivalent for females wearing their hair up. While it completed the package, it only made the yearning for it to be undone, that much greater.

"You're catching flies, Cowboy!" she said softly, as she moved towards him, stopping just as their chests met. He gazed down at her and she put her palm under his chin to close his mouth and he quickly pressed her fingers to his lips.

The electrical charge was immediate as it pulsed through every square micrometer of her being. She let out a hard sigh and closed her eyes.

That sigh would be his undoing every time, he knew that now, without a doubt, as he slid his arms around her waist and cinched her tightly against him. Her arms went around his neck to rhythmically stroke the back of his neck. Their lips met without any other thought in their heads, except for being as close to one another as possible. Their tongues teased and titillated each other until there was no oxygen left between them. When they pulled back, Danny's eyes were like liquid blue flames and Lindsay's were pools of simmering chocolate, their bodies heated by their aching need for each other.

Lindsay put her hands on his chest and breathlessly said, "What about the dinner reservations?"

"Reservations?" Danny blinked. "I have no reservations about haulin' ya into the bedroom this instance, Montana, and havin' my way with ya," he smirked at her.

She playfully slapped his arm. "I'm not that kind of girl, Messer. I require dinner first!"

"There's a deli on the corner that delivers," he suggested hopefully.

"No, I want a proper date! Besides I dropped a bucket full of cash on this dress and I want everyone to see it."

He growled slightly. "I don't think I want anyone to see you in that dress!"

She blushed at his compliment.

"By the way, _where'd _ya get that dress?"

"Stella and I went shopping at some posh shop yesterday, after lunch."

Lucky me, he thought! Then he recalled Stella's text message to him yesterday. _Bless you, Stella,_ as understanding settled in. Stella just made it onto his very short Christmas list!

"You know, you should go shopping with Stella more often," he declared huskily, as his hands began to roam up and down her back.

She felt her control slipping away. "Danny, we better go!" she whispered.

"Why?" he breathed into her ear.

"Because I have a lot more fire and stamina if I've been properly wined and dined!" she breathed back into his ear.

He pulled back and looked at her. _Damn_ she knew how to fight fire with fire!

"Alright, but no dessert until we get home," he double entendre'd as he released one arm from around her waist, but kept the other securely there to guide her out of the apartment and down the stairs.

She laughed. This was going to be one hell of a night!

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When they arrived at the restaurant, Lindsay knew Danny was pulling out all the stops, when he tossed the keys to the valet attendant, as he steered her, with one palm lightly pressed to the small of back, toward the entrance of the restaurant. When she entered, the elegance and exclusivity of the place assailed her senses. The lighting was dim, the music discreet and the waiting area, which was richly furnished, was already full of waiting people, elegantly dressed. This was as posh as the dress shop Stella had taken her to and she was doubly glad that she had shelled out the money for the dress she was wearing. Danny confidently strode up the hostess and quietly announced, "Two for Daniel Messer."

_Ohhh, tonight he was Daniel Messer! She liked the sound of that!_

"This way", the hostess murmured, as she gave Danny an appreciative look. That was no small compliment for New York and in an establishment such as this. The hostess must see tons of good-looking guys, night in and night out. Lindsay's pride swelled, as the full realization hit her, she was here with Danny and he was definitely the most handsome and sexy man she had ever been with. It made her feel downright giddy and almost in need to pinch herself.

When they were seated, side by side, in a cozy booth, Lindsay couldn't help leaning over to Danny and whispering breathlessly, "Danny I've never haven been in a place like this before."

Even though it was dim, he could see her eyes, shining brightly, and a smile of enchantment on her face. He loved doing this for her and with her. This was how he wanted it to be since that first time he had asked her out, except he had upped the ante considerably since that night, when she stood him up. That place then, though nice in its own right, was a dive compared to this place.

"Well to tell you the truth, I've never been to a place like this before either," he confided to her. "So kick me under the table if I do something inappropriate."

She put her fingers to her lips to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. She really doubted if any of what Danny had just said was true, but he sure knew how to put her at ease.

Before she knew, the meal had flown by and Danny was motioning to the waiter.

The waiter approached, "Would you care for dessert this evening?"

Danny winked at Lindsay and replied, "No thank you, we have other plans for dessert."

Lindsay blushed furiously, as she looked down at her hands.

Soon the bill was paid, and they were in the SUV on their way back to Lindsay's apartment.

The evening had been magical so far and Danny's touch had never left her. If his hand wasn't holding hers on the drive to and from the restaurant, it was on the small of her back guiding her in and out of the restaurant. While in the restaurant, either his fingertips rested along her bare shoulder, as he laid his arm along the back of the booth, or his thigh was touching hers, warming her skin through the thin material of her dress. It had all been so innocent and hot at the same time. He had been a perfect gentleman, but soon, they would be alone together and her heart beat wildly in anticipation and in nervousness of what was coming next. Her old doubts seized her once again as Danny found a parking spot.

As he came around and opened her door, he held out his hand and she put her hand in his. He squeezed it gently and pulled it through the crook of his arm. When they climbed the stairs to the entrance of her building, she pulled on his arm slightly and he stopped.

He turned to her and his face was quizzical.

"Um…" she looked up at him, biting her lip in consternation.

"What's wrong, Lindsay?" he asked softly.

When she didn't answer, he backed up against the stoop and half sat on it, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her into the v of his legs.

She looked down and he placed a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to his.

"Whatever it is… you can tell me… it won't faze me… I promise… scout's honor," he sing-songed that last phrase, as he lifted two fingers in a mock pledge.

She laughed at that because she doubted he had ever been a boy scout, far from it in fact, and that is what troubled her.

She nervously ran her hands under the lapels of his jacket and fingered the topsides with her thumbs.

_Okay Lindsay, just spit it out… nobody's getting any younger here!_

"Danny, I'm just not as experienced as you and I don't want to dis-…"

He smiled at her indulgently as he put two fingers to her lips!

"Lindsay, I have just one question for you?" he quizzed as he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What?" her eyes widened.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked in mock seriousness.

"No, of course not!" she replied a little indignantly.

_Damn, I love teasing her! _

"Well then you have nothing to worry about!" he chuckled reassuringly. Then with feeling, he said, "Look, this is the first time for me, with you and the first time for you, with me… am I right here?"

She nodded.

"So we're even on that score."

She nodded again.

He took a deep breath, "Then all that matters is what is in there," he said as he tapped an index finger on her chest where her heart lay, still thumping in nervousness and anticipation. "Let your actions be guided by what's in there and everything will be fine."

She stared at him in wonder, "How did you get so wise?"

"Experience?" he couldn't help but tease her a bit more.

"Come on, Cowboy!" she groaned as she pulled him through the entrance of her building.

"Do you know, Montana, how many times you've pushed me, to the brink, in the past several days?" he teased, as he watched her sway up the stairs in her high heels.

She laughed as she unlocked the door.

"I don't think we're gonna have any problems with meetin' expec-…" he was cutoff as she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled him into the apartment and silenced him with a full mouth on mouth kiss. He kicked the door shut with his foot, swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

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**Author's Note:** The next time I post it will be M-rated so if you are not on alert and want to read on after this... check the M section! And reviewers, **You** **Guys ROCK! **This story is my heart and soul right now and I am touched by how many of you are touched by it! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on it with me. _Always, SJ_


	42. Culmination!

**Author's** **Note: **_**Merry Christmas all you Danny/Lindsay fans!** And thank you to the characters of Danny and Lindsay for prompting me to start writing the stories that have been playing out in my mind since I was 9 years old! SJ_

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

**Culmination!**

_When two hearts from disparate worlds finally come together as one, _

_The two worlds fall away, to born one melded being in all planes of mind, body and soul; _

_Such is the definition of true love! _

_- Sally Jetson _

Once in the bedroom, he set her gently on her feet, and brushed his hand up over her stomach and teasingly began tracing a circle around one of her nipples through the fabric of her dress. He ran the other hand up under the back of her skirt, first skimming stocking, then bare skin and finally lacey underwear.

"_Damn_ Montana, what the hell are you wearing under there?" he breathed raggedly into her ear.

Right then, she knew what she wanted to do. She pulled back from him and looked into his eyes, which had ignited into a lusty blue burn. She hoped she could hold out long enough to do this! Her legs were quickly turning to jelly, her insides literally dripping in desire for him and her head spinning under the intense caressing Danny was administering under her skirt.

"Just a second and I'll show you," she breathed, as her hands slid up under his jacket over his strong pecs, up and around the sensual curve of his shoulder and down along his sinewy biceps, pushing off his jacket in the process. This forced him to drop his hands from her body and she took a step backward, keeping a palm on his chest.

"Stay right there and don't move," she said breathlessly. Her eyes were like liquid pools of quicksand, sucking him into their depths, keeping him immobilized, but it was her heaving chest that caused the intense tightening in his groin, as the blood rushed from all over his body, to that center point, which was beginning to control all his thoughts.

" Montana," he growled impatiently, "the last time I did that, I saw my prospects evaporate into thin air!"

"I promise, it will be worth it this time!" she laughed a little more breathlessly, as she dropped her palm and took another step back from him.

"Okay," he agreed a little warily, "But I'm not closing my eyes!"

She giggled. "Don't worry… I don't want you to close your eyes for _this_."

She slowly pirouetted away from him and took a steadying breath. She methodically untied the straps around her neck and let her dress drop, like a whisper, to the floor. She heard the quick intake of his breath and knew she had hit her mark. _Thank you, Stella! _

His eyes hungrily traveled from the tendrils, now clinging damply around her neck, down along the graceful curve of her back which dipped into a slight hollow that rose outward towards a tiny waist. That tiny waist curved back out and down into the sensual roundness that was her hips and ass. _God, she has such a great ass_! He couldn't wait to get his hands on that ass. As his gaze reluctantly left her great ass, his eyes were drawn to the bare skin between her lacey white underwear and the lacey top of the thigh high stockings. Those stockings were driving him crazy! He wanted to slowly peel them down her legs, one at a time, trailing kisses, at each inch of exposed skin. She casually bent one knee so that her weight shifted into a more seductive pose, which highlighted the firmness of her thigh and calf on one leg and the swell of her hip on the other. _Damn, she looked good enough to take on the spot! _

And just when he thought things couldn't get any hotter, she reached up, pulled the clasp out of her hair and shook it down to her shoulders. Then she slowly turned and held his now feverish eyes with her own. He wanted to feast his eyes on her body, but was afraid, that it was all a delicious dream, from which he would wake, if he moved even an eyelash.

She licked her lips. _Dammit all to hell_, if she didn't say something soon, he was going to have to make a move on her, be damned with waiting for her consent.

Finally she throated, "Take a look, Cowboy, I'm all yours!"

Never sweeter words were spoken, as his eyes greedily drank in every detail of her luscious body. Her breasts were a handful, literally, he could tell. They curved gracefully into a natural tear-drop shape that peaked up into a pair of alert and rosy red nipples, begging to be caressed and teased by his hands and mouth, _immediately_! But he restrained himself, for a few more agonizing seconds, as he finished his visual orgy. The tight stretch of her stomach disappeared down into her lacey underwear, which hid the treasure for which he had been craving far too long, and in an instant he closed the distance between them.

His lips met hers in a fierce melee for instant gratification. Her hands quickly unbuckled his belt and slacks, pulled both his shirts out of his pants and deftly unknotted his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. His hands wound their way into her hair, just biding time until she got his shirt off and her arms out his way, so he could cup those luscious breasts. She was taking way too long with his shirt, so he bent his head between her arms anyway, took one nipple in his mouth and began alternately nipping and sucking at it. Her hands stilled halfway down his arms, her head lolled back as her eyes closed from the exquisite torture he was wreaking with his tongue. A hard sigh forced the air through her lips and across his cheek.

The sigh! That did it! Without ceremony, he hoisted her up to his waist, her legs wrapped compulsively around him and her arms clenched tightly around his neck, her mouth sucking intensely on his earlobe. He removed his hands from her body just long enough to yank his arms out of his sleeves, probably ripping the buttons off the cuffs in the process, and pull off his t-shirt. He crawled onto the bed, on his knees, and gently lowered Lindsay back onto the mattress. He settled his weight on her, being careful to keep the bulk of it on his forearms, which were resting on either side of her head. Her eyes were completely glazed over as he began a trail of kisses, starting at her lips, working his way across her jaw and down her neck. Each kiss, in this tortuous trail of pleasure, brought forth a small whimper from Lindsay, which only served to egg him on. Her hands clawed at the sheets on the bed, as he continued to her breasts, where he paused briefly to tweak each nipple to rapt attention, with his tongue, before continuing on to her stomach. The moans that came, from deep within her throat, when his tongue had worked at her breasts only aroused him further. But when he stopped at her stomach to twirl his tongue suggestively all around the inside of her navel, she threw her arms above her head, fisting the bed rails tightly in her hands and thrusting her hips instinctively upwards, in hopes of some release of the tension that was mounting all throughout her body. When this yielded very little release, she grabbed wildly at Danny's head trying to pull him back to her level.

"Dannnnnyyy!" she wailed softly. She knew she was begging, but she didn't care anymore. She needed him, now.

He peered up at her from his tortuous assault on her navel and saw the raw need mirrored in her eyes. With any other woman, this would have only spurred him to continue this slow burning torture, to see how much further he could drive it, before he gave into his own need and satisfied them both. But the look in Lindsay's eyes not only aroused him, physically, to a searing peak, but it spoke to him emotionally as well. Up until this moment, he had never been that concerned about meeting the needs of the other involved party… I mean, he never left them wanting, to be sure, but it was always on his terms and in his timeframe. But the overwhelming emotions, that were completely indescribable at this moment, were culminating in a burning need and desire to satisfy _her_ completely. In short, he had never wanted… no, never _needed,_ to become one with a woman in every sense of the word. He suddenly pulled off her and stood up beside the bed.

Worry immediately registered in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she stammered.

"Nothin'… I just need a sec." he rasped out, as he quickly dropped his slacks and boxers. It was the sight of his 'magnificent body' that drove her insides into a frenzy, but it was the look in his eyes that brought the tenderness to her face and her breath caught, as he settled on his side, beside her. Her hand laid along his jaw as he propped his head up on one hand while he slid the fingers of his other hand under the waistband of her lacy underwear.

"Call me crazy, Montana, but I think you're a little overdressed," he teased.

She barely managed a giggle, as he slid her underwear down her shapely legs and tossed them aside. He made quick work of her stockings and sandals as well. Then he allowed his fingers to caress first her inner thigh, then finally her wetness contained within the v of those delectable thighs. He bent his head and nipped the inside of her thigh and her head began to roll from side to side. She was losing touch with anything concrete, as her insides quivered again in extreme need of him.

"God, Danny… please… inside me… now!" she moaned and wailed simultaneously.

He started to slide a finger inside her, but she grabbed his hand away and pulled it up and across her body, effectively bringing his face up to hers.

"Not that way, not this time," she pleaded softly, "Only you!" she exhaled with monumental effort. She reached over the edge of the bed and pulled a condom from between the mattresses and held it up in front of his face.

He smirked at her as he said, "Yes ma'am." He deftly ripped open the package, donned the condom and positioned himself over her. His eyes, holding hers in silent question… until she slid her hands up his arms, around his neck and pulled his head down to her lips. Then he slowly slid down into her soft, drenched depths as both their moans combined into one as their lips melded together. She gave a small start at his hardness, he paused, she adjusted and he settled in as far as he could go. He broke the kiss to pull back and look at her face. He wanted to see her expression.

She sighed in immediate satisfaction and a Cheshire cat smile spread across her face.

"Ya like that?" he said a bit smugly.

"Maybe" she countered softly. "Let's see what else you can do," she challenged as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Oh god, Lindsay" he murmured as he dropped his face into her neck. He was trying to hang on here. She had really short-circuited his plan, when she had pulled out that condom. When he didn't move, she began to thrust her hips up against him rhythmically, clenching her inner thighs around him for leverage. Her hands were roaming down his back and when they cupped his ass, he knew, this was not the best position for him to be in, if he was to hold his own.

He quickly flipped over, taking her with him. She had a surprised look on her face momentarily, but then she slid her hands up his chest to caress his earlobes between her thumbs and index fingers, pressing her breasts against his chest and covering his mouth completely with her own. He groaned deep in his throat and she pulled back to an upright position and began to move on him. He clamped one hand on her hip and cupped the other around her ass causing intense pressure to build, as she rocked. Her whimpers became pants as the rate of her rocking increased and he felt her insides began to spasm and quiver. The deep moan that tore from her throat told him that she was close and he watched, in extreme satisfaction, as she finally began to slip over the edge.

"Danny…" she pleaded, as she fixed her burning eyes on him. The pleading emotion in her voice puzzled him, until she intertwined her hands around the back of his neck and panted close to his face, "I- want- you- to- come- _with me_!"

He never had someone care enough about him before… care enough about him, that they wanted him to come at the same time. Before he could even contemplate it, his body responded and they rode a wave of surging sensations that completely put them beyond consciousness, until their climaxes joined them completely as one. Totally spent, Lindsay laid her head on Danny's shoulder and pressed a kiss into his neck. His arms tightened around her as she caressed his lips softly with her index finger.

"What a ride, Cowboy!" she sighed softly, in extreme satisfaction.

"Well, ya know me… I aim to please!" he drawled as he slowly traced a line with his finger from her shoulder down to her hand, whereupon he clasped it and pressed her fingers to his lips. She raised her head and looked at him, the tenderness in his eyes matched, in intensity and feeling, by her own.

She shifted her weight slightly sliding off him and into the crook of his arm, molding her body along his, her eyes never leaving his. He pressed her hand to his chest.

"Lindsay, you are so beautiful… I… I swear, it has _never_ been like that before," he said with a catch in his throat.

"Me neither, Danny… only with you," she whispered back, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Aw, Montana, don't cry on me," he groaned softly as he wiped it away with his thumb.

"I can't help it; you say the sweetest things to me!"

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**Author's Note:** Well you'll never believe this... or maybe you will if you know me... but I actually have more story to tell! LOL!


	43. In The Light of Day

**Author's Note:** _Happy 2007!_ I think we need to start the New Year off with some **hot** D/L interaction so here it is! Enjoy! Thank you for all your reviews, I read and appreciate every one of them! When FF alerts are working again, I will be personally replying to each one again.

One last thing (you know I'm a wordy gal by now) I want to dedicate this chapter to my amazing beta, **BrilliantMadness**. Without her honesty, integerity and guidance, this chapter would not be what it is. She _ahem_ encouraged a total rewrite of the M part and she was so right as it turned much better the second time around! Thank you, **BrilliantMadness!**

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

**In The Light of Day**

_Light is the ultimate revealer _

_Of truth, beauty and goodness _

_Therefore sweet and tender emotions _

_Expressed during the cover of night _

_Shall not be lost in the light of day _

_If one's love is true _

_- Sally Jetson _

Lindsay awoke well before the alarm went off, marveling at the overwhelmingly peaceful, contented and downright giddy feelings that were coursing through her being. She felt like a schoolgirl. _What a cliché but so apropos!_ She turned on her side to drink in the god-like creature responsible for all these feelings: handsome, sexy, passionate, sweet, tender, sometimes infuriating and always irresistible Daniel Messer. She might as well call 1-800-I-AM-LOST now because there was no finding her way back. Actually, forget that, she didn't want to find her way back. But she did have to get to work. No matter how she was feeling about him, she didn't want it to affect her work. She was adamant about that. Therefore, she placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder before she quietly slipped out of bed and into the shower.

Danny awoke almost as soon as he felt her leave the bed. _Why is she always in such a hurry to get out of bed in the morning? Damn country girls, it must be ingrained in them to wake with the chickens!_ He groaned, as he reluctantly hauled himself out of bed. He was determined to catch her in the shower no ands, ifs or buts about it.

Once in the bathroom, he casually leaned against the wall and pulled the shower curtain aside slightly so he could watch her. If he thought she was beautiful last night, in the seductively dim light, she was absolutely real and stunning in the sunny morning light. Her back was turned to him. He watched the water ebb and flow along the same sensuous curves that he intimately followed with his hands and mouth the night before. His body responded to the intense sensuality of her body and to last night's memories flooding his senses. She turned toward him as she sluiced the water over her hair with both hands. He once again feasted his eyes on the sight that had greeted him last night, when she had dropped her dress and turned to him. It was all as he remembered and more, because there were no shadows hinting at and hiding things, here and there. The bright morning sunlight did not lie! This was Lindsay Monroe, his Montana: beautiful, vibrant, sexy, gentle, sweet, caring and wanton. God, how he loved the wanton! He never knew it was there until a few days ago, when he had brought her to his apartment after the hospital. He felt special that she showed that side to him, and him alone.

Lindsay gave a startled, "Danny," as she opened her eyes and saw him staring hungrily at her. Her arms went instinctively to shield herself from his eyes because his gaze was so piercing and she hadn't been with him long enough yet to lose her natural modesty.

"Don't," he protested softly as he reached out his hands to pull her hands away. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" he asked earnestly.

She ducked her head slightly and blushed.

He could see that she was embarrassed, but he couldn't understand why. He dropped one of her hands and placed his hand along her cheek and guided her face back towards him.

"You weren't that shy last night, Ms. Monroe, in fact quite the opposite," he teased and she blushed again.

But she held his eyes this time, as she said softly, "It is just that everything is revealed in the light of day."

Never taking his eyes off hers, he replied in equal softness, "Well you know what has been revealed to me?"

She struggled to make some response but her throat had blocked with emotion at the softness in his voice and the tenderness in his eyes, so instead she shook her head slightly in silent acknowledgment of his question.

"That you are perfect for me."

Her emotion pushed past the lump in her throat, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she buried her face in his neck. A tear trickled down her cheek. It was impossible for her to hold onto her emotions when he said things like that to her.

His arms didn't go around her at first. Instead he reached behind her with one hand and turned off the shower and then reached out with his other hand and pulled the towel off the rack and settled it gently around her body. But the warmth of the soft, fluffy towel was nothing compared to the heat of his arms as they encircled her body, when he picked her up and carried her back to the bed. After he laid her gently on the mattress, he quickly shed his t-shirt and boxers and settled himself beside her, molding his long, lithe body along hers. His finger traced a burning trail from her lips, down her neck, through the valley of her breasts, casually pushing aside the towel as he went, not a thought between them about how _late _they were going to arrive at work today. He delightfully watched the pleasure play across her face as his finger continued its cruel-sweet torture across her skin. She was so beautiful _to play_, like a finely tuned instrument that barely needed to be plucked or strummed to invoke the resonant tones, characteristic of such an exquisite instrument.

And if last night was about satiating an intense hunger fueled by many days of close proximity to each other and countless angst-ridden weeks of longing, then this morning was about fanning the sweet flames of desire that had continued to smolder throughout the night as they slept. Even though they had touched and caressed each other intimately in the seductive dark of the night, performing the same motions in the bright morning light, only brought a honesty and freshness to the act that could not be garnered in the dark, where they could not fully experience each other's pleasure as it played out in the expressions of their faces.

Lindsay watched Danny's hand as he continued the sizzling trail down across her taut abs and over to her inner thigh. As he let his fingers lazily drift and stroke her inner thigh in small circles, the swirling of the butterflies in the pit of her stomach tightened into a clenched little knot that sent a torturous piercing down to her already throbbing center. When her eyes closed in utter ecstasy of the sensation and a whisper of a moan escaped her lips, she heard Danny groan in the back of his throat. She shrugged the towel off one arm as she reached across and began her own tantalizing ascent with her fingertips, up his forearm, along his sinewy bicep, across his well-defined shoulder, along his collar bone, down over the hard swell of his pectorals and on to the sharply defined lattice of his abs. He felt himself respond to her feathery-light sweep across his upper body, as the rush of blood, from his head to his own throbbing center, whooshed in his ears. She discerned the hardening of his desire, by the darkening of his eyes and the slight nod of his head towards hers as his eyes closed in concentration on the sensations coursing through his body. Her lips parted slightly and that hard little sigh, that always sent him over the edge, pushed through her lips and the breath drifted across his cheek, beckoning him to completely lose himself in her.

As her hand dropped even lower and began to stroke and to caress him, he could no longer concentrate on any movement his hand was making on her body and it stilled completely. She shifted slightly to bring her other hand up to his lips as she softly outlined his lips with a fingertip. Then she angled her finger slightly and traced just inside his lips. His tongue flicked across her fingertip as it drew across his bottom lip. The next time around she pressed hard against his bottom teeth and scraped the bottom of her finger across his teeth as she pushed it into his mouth and he immediately closed his lips around her finger to completely suck it into his mouth. The suggestive maneuver awakened his hand at her inner thigh again and after a few lazy strokes, he brushed his fingers across her wetness and a shiver ran down her body. When he slipped a finger inside her, her whole body shuddered and it was her turn to become completely lost in the sensations sweeping across _her_ body and converging into a tight coil all around his finger. He slipped in another finger and the tension became almost unbearable as she grabbed his wrist in some effort to guide his hand quickly into her release. He cupped his other hand at the back of her neck turning her head so that he could look into her eyes. He drank in the otherworldly look in her eyes as she began to lose visual consciousness and 'see' only sensations. Suddenly, her body arched and his need flared immediately in response. He withdrew his fingers and quickly leaned over her to run his hand between the mattresses.

"God… Danny…don't…stop…"she moaned as her head rolled back and forth in frustration.

He dropped a quick kiss between her breasts, as he found what he was seeking. "Just a minute, Baby," he reassured her, working his nimble fingers to tear open the package and roll the condom down on himself. Then he was above her, balanced on his hands, his eyes focusing on hers, as he slid inside her.

Her eyes closed at the feeling of immediate satisfaction and he raggedly exclaimed, "God… Lindsay, there is no feeling in the world like being inside you."

She smiled indulgently at that as she replied softly, "Good… that is exactly where I want you to be!" and wrapped her legs around him to urge him deeper into her as she interlaced her hands around the back of his neck and pulled his head in for a deep kiss. Together their tension mounted in earnest as they moved in unison. He dropped down onto his forearms so that their bodies could experience as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.

She was so close, he could feel it, every muscle starting to convulse around him and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on. So, tenderly, against her ear, he breathed raggedly, "Come on, Baby, I want you to come apart... all- around- me-!" That was the impetus that she needed as she began her spiral downwards.

"Danny, I want you to…" she pleaded softly.

The rest of the words were lost, as he buried his head in her neck. He **_knew_ **what she wanted and _**damn**_ if it didn't send him right over the edge with her, _again_!

With no more spoken words between them, they rode the wave of extreme sensations and intense emotions until they were mere whispers fading in the bright morning light. They collapsed together, his head buried into her neck, plying soft kisses along her collar bone and _she_, gently stroking the back of his head, just at his hair line.

He murmured into her neck, " Montana, do you know what you do to me?"

She moved her hand to his cheek and stroked it gently with her thumb as she let her fingers rest along his neck behind his ear.

"Yes," she agreed softly, "the same thing you do to me… and for me!"

They continued to lay there wrapped in each other's arms and basking in each other's presence… just content to be together.

When the alarm, that Lindsay had forgotten to turn off, blared jarringly, she reached over to turn it off. When she turned around, Danny was propped up on one elbow and she caught the hungry look in his eyes and the questioning quirk of one of his eyebrows.

"No way… Messer… I absolutely cannot be late my first real day back at work!" she declared categorically as she ducked out of bed when he made a grab for her.

"Aw Montana, I'm beginning to think you can't keep up with me," he teased with a smirk.

She sashayed off to her closet to find something to wear, ignoring his last remark.

"Cold shower… now, Cowboy!" she ordered playfully.

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Twenty minutes later, when he emerged from the bedroom, she was already in the kitchen, dressed in that understated work attire. Good thing, he thought, because he was going to have a hard time concentrating on work as it was. He reached for the cup of coffee she held out to him and leaned back against the counter. She smiled and raised her eyebrows at him, as she took a sip.

"Somethin' funny, Montana?" he smirked at her.

As she dropped the cup from her lips, her smile widened and her eyes fairly danced. "I have to admit you look, great, wearing that suit," she said referring to the clothes he had worn the night before, sans the jacket and tie, "but aren't you a little overdressed for work?" And then she added mischievously, "People may talk."

"Hate to break it to ya, Montana," he said softly, as he set his coffee cup on the counter and reached out his hand to pull her into the intimate v of his legs. She felt the warmth of his legs through their clothes and a little fire ignited in her tummy. How was she supposed to get work accomplished today?

"People are already talking," as he fingered a curl next to her check.

"Yeah, I noticed that when I went into the lab, yesterday," she replied a little dryly.

He looked at her for a second, trying to read her expression. He couldn't, so he started fishing, "That bother you?"

She set her coffee cup down beside his on the counter, slid her hands up along his chest to rest comfortably on his rock-solid pecs. She looked up at him thoughtfully for a moment. How do you admit some of your own worst fears, to someone who seems to be so confident in the very area in which you feel vulnerable?

_You just say it, Lindsay. This is never going to work if you can't talk honestly with the man!_

He must have sensed her consternation because he reassured her, "You know, you can tell me anything." He moved his hand from the curl at her cheek, around, underneath her hair, to cup the back of her neck.

Still looking at him she took a deep breath. "No, it doesn't bother me… about us, I mean. It bothers me… about me"

He looked a little puzzled. "What about you?"

"Um… trying to fit in at the lab, coming in as a newcomer, being so different, you know a country girl, striving to be taken seriously." She bit her lip nervously again, as she revealed the next part. She didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him think she didn't want to be with him, but the only way to the other side, was straight through the middle, so she stated simply, "I don't want this relationship to hinder things at work, people taking me seriously," she said earnestly.

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment to collect his thoughts. When he looked back at her, she could not read his expression but his eyes were burning brightly.

"Ya know, Montana, I'll play this discreetly and professionally at work because I think that is how it outta to be handled, but I'll tell you up front, I'm not gonna lie about us if anyone asks."

"I'm not asking you to lie, Danny. This isn't really your issue. It's mine! I'm just trying to figure out how to reconcile these insecurities I have, that's all," she replied earnestly.

"I'm not sure where you're pickin' up these vibes, but everyone respects you, enjoys working with you and, hell, they care about you. You should have seen how everyone was rooting for you at the hospital," he implored her to believe him.

Then he wondered if any of her insecurities had stemmed from his teasing, when he called her ' Montana' and 'Country Girl'. His chest constricted at the thought that anything he had done would have a play in her angst.

"Mon-, I mean Lindsay…" he paused, as he licked his lips nervously. Apologies were not his forte, even if they were warranted.

He started again, "Lindsay, if me callin' you Montana or Country Girl or any of the hell I give you contributes to this… I'm really sorry."

She looked at him and a small, grateful smile started to play along her lips, as she reassured him, "No, at the beginning it bothered me a little, but it started to grow on me and then I began to look forward to it and…"

His worried brow softened as his face relaxed into a face-splitting grin at her gentle omission and he pulled her to him in a tight hug. She slid her arms under his arms as she wrapped them around the middle of his back and laid her cheek against his chest. She could feel the even rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. It was a reassuring sound that she could lose herself in, each and every day.

Then she felt his chest begin to reverberate with sound of his voice as he confessed, "Besides, Mac, as much as told me, that day in his office, after our fight in the hallway, if he had to choose between us, he was going to choose the straight up, reliable, no nonsense country girl, over a street-wise-ass-punk, loose cannon, like me," he grinned against her hair.

She smiled against his chest and couldn't get over the fact that he always knew just what to say to ease her worries.

Then to put her mind further at ease, he said, "By the way, I have a spare change of clothes in my locker at work, so I don't have to wear the suit all day, so no one will suspect that we even went out last night."

She craned her head up to look at him warningly.

"Oh, I don't mind if they know we went out last night, but if anyone asks, don't you dare breathe a word about how hot it was last night."

"Aw c'mon, Montana, you're killin' me here, I'm not even allowed one little bit of locker room talk."

"You do," she warned, "and you can kiss any future hotness, with me, goodbye," as she playfully pinched and twisted the skin of his chest, through the fabric of his shirt.

"Ow, ow, ow, Montana," he winced in mock pain. "You don't have to get physical. I won't say anything… scout's honor," he grumbled as he held up two fingers in a mock scout salute.

"Uh, Uh, I'm not buying that 'cause I know you are no boy scout! I'll be watching your back," she countered.

"Well, I happen to know for a fact that you, Ms. Monroe, are no girl scout," as he bent his head to capture her lips. He knew he shouldn't, with work looming on the horizon, but he had to have one more taste of her, before he put it on ice for the day. She held nothing back as she met his lips with an intensity that surprised even herself. He was just about to gather her up and head back to the bedroom, when one of their phones rang.

They pulled away, already breathing heavy and eyes glazing over in naked desire for each other. Neither one broke the gaze until the phone rang again.

Finally Lindsay swallowed and whispered, "I guess we'd better get going."

"You first," he said softly.

She turned, walked to the door and he followed, watching her sway, seductively, the entire way.

"You're not going to be able to do that at work, Messer… that's _not discreet_ or _professional _behavior," she pointedly said, as she flipped open her phone to take her call.

_Damn, did the woman have eyes in the back of her head? This was going to be one long-ass day! _


	44. Locker Room Talk!

**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the reviews. I treasure your words! Now that ff alerts are back up I will be replying again personally to everyone. This chapter is a bit of lightheartedness for you guys and I guess a _'somewhat official'_ beginning of the what I consider the second half fo S&W... **_The Relationship_.**

**Special Author's Note**: As always thank you to my wonderful Beta, **Brilliant Madness **and _special thanks _to **MariaLisa** for her _flow control_ work. It is immensely appreciated! **HUGS**

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Locker Room Talk!

_The truth is rarely pure and never simple. _

_- Oscar Wilde,_ _The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895, Act I _

When Danny pulled into the parking garage of the building that housed the crime lab he didn't circle the garage looking for a parking spot; instead, he pulled up to the elevators that granted access to the labs on the upper floors. Lindsay looked at him in surprise. They hadn't really talked on the drive from her apartment but she had thought nothing of it until now.

"Go ahead and I'll catch up with you in the lab," he said softly as he reached across to intertwine his hand in hers, raising it to and brushing it across his lips in a whisper of a kiss. She didn't understand what was going on here, particularly after his little talk about playing it straight with people. She looked at him but had no success at discerning his expression as the shadows of the parking garage played across his face.

"Is everything ok?" she asked in concern.

"Sure," he shrugged slightly, as he turned to look at the dashboard intently, his other arm draped casually across the steering wheel.

It was not like him to be less than forthcoming about what was on his mind. Danny was nothing if not a straight shooter… sometimes too straight. She did notice that although he gave the appearance of not really focusing on her, his thumb was tracing a small circle in her palm. She stared at their interlaced hands resting on his thigh and made no move to get out of the SUV.

After a few moments he began, "Ya know," he paused, looking down at their intertwined hands. He stopped the tracing with his thumb and gave her hand a tighter squeeze as he shifted slightly in his seat to turn more towards her.

He was glad for the dimness of the garage, as he met her soft, but questioning eyes, which were gently encouraging him to continue.

He licked his lips apprehensively before he took a deep breath and continued. "I do know a little something about trying to prove yourself but feeling like the deck is somewhat stacked against you from the get-go."

"Yeah," she said softly, nodding slightly, allowing him room for any further comments he might want to make.

"So I thought after our talk this morning… I thought… look, I don't want to make it any harder for ya than it has to be. I know how everyone in there," as he nodded his head toward the entrance of the building, "can really dish it out, even though it's all in good fun."

This was a thoughtful gesture he was offering her and she was touched. She laid her free hand along his cheek and ran her thumb over his lips.

"Danny you don't have to do this, I can handle it. I _am_ a grown woman," she offered, with a smile, trying to dispel his worry.

Danny looked her up and down quickly as if to assure himself she was indeed as she said she was.

"I'm well aware of that Montana," the tenor of his voice changing from thoughtful concern to slight animalistic growling. Then with his free hand he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him for a quick, intense, kiss.

When his lips released hers he husked out, "Now get going before I do find a parking spot and make us both _very _late for work,"

She brushed her fingertips down his chest and smiled at that.

"Alright I'll see you in the lab then," she threw over her shoulder as she exited the SUV and shut the door.

As he patrolled the parking garage in search of an open spot he silently cursed himself again for getting involved with a complex woman. Being involved with women, before, had never made him relate to them the way he was relating to Lindsay. In his prior experience, women were all about _a little conversation _shared over drinks and dinner, _a few laughs_, and then hopefully some _fun between the sheets_; but _not _about _seeing things through their eyes_, and _wondering about their feelings and concerns._ The only other women who he'd had a deep relationship with were his mother and Aiden. His mother, loving him unconditionally, and along with baseball, had kept him out of serious trouble when he was growing up in the old neighborhood. And Aiden; well, she had always hit it head on with him, never putting up with any of his crap. She had been a true friend. But those were different types of relationships than the one he had with Lindsay. He had known that it would be different with Lindsay early on, but he was surprised by _how_ different it was. He wanted to tell her things about himself and his past. That little bit he had revealed to her just now about '_proving oneself_, _when things were stacked against you'_ had only been the tip of the iceberg of what he felt compelled to share with her. He had never wanted to share those things with anyone, not even Mac, when he was in the worst possible trouble. And that was the worrisome part, because what he had to reveal to her might very well drive them apart! He'd never anticipated this, because frankly, he hadn't thought that far ahead to '_if and when_ 'he and Lindsay became a couple. All his energies and brain power had been directed toward just _'getting_ _together with her'_. Now, after last night and this morning, he felt he could safely say they were together.

_Damn Messer, what are you going to do now? Don't screw this up!_

He pulled into a free parking spot, wrenched the SUV into park, stomped on the parking brake and slammed the door shut as he set off for the lab.

In the locker room he quickly changed into his spare pair of jeans and his trademark shirt that hugged the well-defined muscles in his arms and chest. As he was tossing his slacks and shirt into his locker he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Looks like someone didn't make it home last night."

_Damn, why him, right off the bat… Is this some kind of test? _

Danny placed a hand along the top of his locker door and laid his other palm against the adjacent locker door, mentally bracing himself for the inevitable razzing. He and Flack had always engaged in locker room talk, never in great detail but little comments here and there about their escapades: '_Man, she was hot last night.'_ Or _'The woman was a maniac!' _He didn't want to go there with Flack, or anybody else for that matter, about Lindsay. It was just too important to him that he didn't screw this up.

He let out a slow breath as he clipped on his badge and phone. He shut the locker door and turned toward Flack with a shrug. Flack was leaning causally against the opposite row of lockers with a mockingly quizzical look on his face.

"I saw Lindsay just a few moments ago and I've never seen her in higher spirits," Flack continued, obviously fishing.

Danny purposely gave Flack a blank stare as he answered, "So, what's your point man?"

Flack was not backing down so easily. "Just want an inside scoop on you and Lindsay… ya know… did you guys finally…"

But Flack did not get a chance to finish as Danny cut him off in exasperation, "Man, why do you have to get _your kicks _by hearing about _my love life_?"

Flack pushed himself off the lockers as Danny come around the end of the bench on his way to exiting the locker room.

"Now, _that's_ very telling!" Flack smirked in triumph at Danny, as he clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder.

This paused Danny's exit. Danny flicked a sideways glance at Flack's hand on his shoulder, before looking his friend straight in his eyes. He knew he might regret going any further with this, but he wanted to shut Flack down once and for all on this matter.

"And _how_ is that _telling_?" Danny replied rather drily.

"Messer, in all our years of hangin' together, you have _never, ever, _referred to it as your _'love life'_! It has always been your _'sex life'._

Now Danny was thoroughly exasperated with Flack and couldn't really say anymore without totally giving something away; he was essentially backed into a corner. So he escaped as gracefully as he could in light of the situation.

"Flack, man, you are so full of _shit_!" Danny answered with a disgusted noise in his throat.

Flack laughed heartily at this, "So are you Messer, so are you… I just hope Lindsay's aware of how really _full of shit_ you are!"

"Apparently the _right kind_ _of shit_," Danny couldn't help tossing out at Flack with a smirk, as he shrugged off Flack's hand and exited the locker room.

Flack's mocking laughter followed him down the hall.

As Danny approached the office that he and Lindsay shared, he heard pealing laughter before he actually saw Stella standing in front of Lindsay's desk with tears running down her face. Lindsay was apparently relaying a very humorous antidote, in which, she was at the pivotal moment, because she suddenly leaned forward across the desk, half rising out of her seat, as Danny caught her last words, "I kid you not, Stella." She raised a palm at Stella in mock honesty and dissolved into gales of laughter herself.

Entering a room containing hysterically laughing women always carries its distinct disadvantages to the male ego, so he entered rather warily. Stella began wiping her eyes with her index fingers as her laughter began to disintegrate into breathless 'Oh my God's'.

"Lindsay, there is no way any self-respecting guy would do that, no matter how crazy he was for the woman!" she finally managed to gasp out.

Upon catching Stella's remark, Danny quickly turned on his heels to exit. He did not want to be a part of any conversation that involved laughter at the expense of some lame-ass who did something foolish in the name of love. But it was too late, because Stella caught sight of Danny and waved him over. When he was near enough, Stella grabbed his upper arm and gave it a playful squeeze.

"The man of hour!" Stella exclaimed, between small fits of laughter.

Danny's eyebrows rose in surprise, "What do you mean, '_man of the hour_'?"

_Uh oh, Messer, this is not sounding good! _

"We got two DB's over in SoHo… "Stella said, finally able to catch her breath. "I'll meet you in the garage in 10 minutes," she further explained as she strode out of the room, emitting a final laugh and then heaving a long, contented sigh.

Danny stared at her retreating back not really knowing what had just happened, but he was fairly certain now that they weren't talking about him. There had been no guilty looks passing between Lindsay and Stella when they discerned his presence. A small giggle escaped from the woman behind him and he turned to train his piercing blue eyes on her dancing brown eyes, noticing how the giggle creased the cleft in her chin. He placed his hands a little wider than shoulder width apart on her desk as he leaned across it toward Lindsay who was seated once again.

"So, engaging in a little locker room talk of your own with Stella," he teased close to her face.

_I'm gonna make her blush! _

She could feel his breath across her cheek and her face warmed slightly as she saucily retorted, "Actually no… just a little girl talk."

_He may make me blush, but he can't fluster me! _

"Is there a difference?" he challenged playfully.

_I'm not letting her off that easy! _

"There is," she countered softly, never breaking her gaze.

_I'm not giving him '**do-da'**! _

"And _how_ would _you_ know the difference?"

_Imply she doesn't know what she's talking about…that'll get her to spill! _

"I have two older, _very male_ brothers. I lived in small town and went to a small school. Locker room talk _was_ the entertainment!"

_I love bantering with him… it is a complete turn on! _

"So you engage in a little locker room talk of your own from time to time?" he queried.

_Damn, she looks hot, shooting me those feisty little looks! _

"Noooo…only girl talk," she smiled angelically.

_Crap, are the muscles in his arms clenching? _

"What I'm not worthy of locker room talk?" he mocked as he stood up and crossed his arms across his chest in some archaic sign of male defiance.

_She's pulling that innocent crap…I'll probably have to kiss it out of her! _

She knew he was baiting her in that infuriating Messer manner but she was up to it.

"Why, Messer, I do believe your ego is showing," she smiled sweetly at him.

_Damn, he is soooo hard to resist when he is acting cocky. _

He had no verbal response for that, which was highly unusual for him, so he dropped one hand to the desk, as he quickly bent in closer and cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, pressing a branding kiss to her lips and quickly skirting his tongue inside her mouth before pulling back to survey her glittering eyes and slightly heaving chest.

_Ha! Gotcha Montana! _

She sighed with a slight smile. "That's risky behavior, Messer!"

_Now what do you say to that Messer! _

"Noooo, risky behavior is the supply closet down the hall with our names on it and no lock on the door," he teased with raised eyebrows and a silent challenge in his eyes.

_I bet she's not brave enough! _

"You only have a few minutes before you need to meet Stella."

_Keep him off balance, Lindsay! _

"That's enough time for me."

_What do you think of that? _

"I wouldn't brag about that!" she laughed.

_A slice to the male ego will bring 'em down every time! _

He gave a playful snort as he pushed himself off the desk and came around to her side; she popped out of her seat to meet him halfway and stop him with a palm on his chest which he completely ignored as he pressed himself flushed against her. They stared at each other unaware of the world beyond their sphere.

"How are we going to manage this at work?" Danny finally rasped out as he casually placed a hand on the side of her waist away from the revealing glass walls; not that anyone walking by wouldn't notice with a casual glance that there was something going on by their proximity to one another.

Neither one had an answer to that, only a promise in their eyes to each other to continue this after work at a more appropriate place and time.

"Hey guys," Stella's playful tone startled them back to the present. "save it for after shift!"

Lindsay quickly spoke so only Danny could hear, "_Go, _but be safe out there because you are _absolutely the best piece_ of locker room talk I have ever had!"

There was a smile on her face, but the tone in her voice and the somberness in her eyes made him gulp in complete understanding. He brushed his hand along her waist as he left to join Stella in the doorway.

"Don't worry, Linds, I'll bring him back safe and sound!" Stella assured Lindsay with a knowing smile; then they were gone.


	45. Knowing Each Other

**Author's Note: **If I had to pick a favorite chapter this would be it. Enjoy!

**Author's Note 2: **Thank you to **MariaLisa **for her sprinkling of Beta magic upon my words. _Special thanks_ to **Sugah** for her help with the tatoo.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

**Knowing Each Other**

_Could there be anything sweeter _

_Than the knowledge _

_That the one who knows you _

_As well as you know yourself _

_Also cares for you _

_As much as you care for them _

_-Sally Jetson _

The early morning sun wafted through the half-open blinds in golden streams that reflected into long ribbons of light. Evenly spaced along the wooden floorboards, they led to the bed as if they were the steps up to heaven itself, and to the couple that was ensconced there, contentedly savoring a long-awaited day off together.

Lindsay sat in the bed, propped up against a pillow, one knee bent casually up to her chest while the other knee was bent and flopped out to the side. She wore Danny's button down shirt that had been hastily tossed to the floor the night before, in their urgent need to become as one. She always did that; donned the shirt he had been wearing the night before, because she was an early riser and he was not. She would laze contently beside him, while he slept, surrounded by the scent of him in his shirt, the breath of his slumber caressing the skin of her knee. Sometimes she read, sometimes not, most of the time she just sat and watched him and thought. She thought about the last few weeks they had been together; the only moments apart had been when they were working on separate cases or when their days off had not coincided; and although an early riser she had shed the habit of jumping out of bed first thing to go for a run in Central Park, run errands, do the laundry and pay the bills. The run in Central Park would be done later, with him, after he was up, and the mundane tasks would be saved for those days when she was off and he was not, when she needed to fill her time; because time with him alone, like this, was too scant and too precious to waste!

She knew nothing would _roust_ him out of bed before 11:00 am on his day off, however, she knew what would _arouse_ him. Because she didn't really want him out of bed anyway, just somewhat conscious for a period of time… then he could resume his slumber.

She began at his tattoo, on his taut arm muscle just below his shoulder; the muscles that were always at attention even when he was relaxed. She traced it with her index finger, wondering how it had come to be and what had made him choose this particular design; because it was quite beautiful and intricate, like an ancient Tribal or Celtic work of art with its intertwining spiking and swirling design which made it difficult to discern where one path began and the other ended. She had asked him about it one time; he had shrugged it off saying it was something he had chosen in honor of his mother. She had been taken aback at that and remarked, to him, the first thing that had come into her head, _'Unusual… most tattoos in honor of mothers are big hearts with I LOVE MOM scrolled across them.'_ She had been half teasing and half not. He had replied, with a faint smile, that his mother was not the usual kind of mother. She remembered wanting to hear more about his mother, but he had abruptly clasped her to his waist with that tattooed arm and had begun razing the sensitive skin along her neck with that scruff of hair on his chin. It had made her shiver with the sensation of pleasurable pain that it gave her and her thoughts had been quickly obliterated by the intense lovemaking session that had followed. She thought about that now… the fact that he rarely spoke of his family. He went to see Louie on his days off and sometimes they stopped off together on their way home from work, but he didn't really talk about them and she wondered why.

Her musings and her tracing stopped when he gave a stir and reached the hand of his tattooed arm out to caress her knee once before trailing it up along her inner thigh, underneath the shirt, stopping just inside the crook of her thigh at her panty line, where his hand stilled. She sucked in her breath as her stomach fluttered. She knew what he was doing… he was teasing her. He would not move his hand again until she moved hers. He was playing 'tit' for 'tat' with her and he knew it drove her to the very edge, where he then could give her the gentle nudge required to push her into the yawning precipice below.

He was very well-versed in matters of sexual pleasure and she had never been with anyone like him before. Heck, she had only really been with two other men in her life. One was the quintessential hometown boy whom she had known her whole life; comfortable and familiar; she had learned the mechanics of sex with him, and, although it had been nice, once she had learned her way around, she realized after she had gone off to college that it was nice because she was young and 'horny', not because she was in love with him. When he had pressed her for a commitment she had broken it off. She knew there was more of the world that she wanted to see, than the view of it she would get if she lived her life as a rancher's wife.

The second man had been a young, up and coming business man whom she had met during her last year in college. It had been exciting at first, being with someone who was going places, but that had quickly faded when she realized he was really more interested in building his career and having a trophy wife than in her as a person. The final split had come when she had decided to pursue a career as a CSI instead of taking a relatively quiet and obscure position as a high school science teacher.

But being with Danny was a whole different ballgame. He had made his interest in her very clear… particularly that day in the hallway when she had shut him out with the excuse that 'she needed space' and 'it was her, not him.' It hadn't deterred him, and he had been there for her, ever since. He was where she belonged, she knew that now. Someday when the time was right, she would tell him so.

But now she had a physical craving that needed satisfying. The mere presence of his hand languishing outside the crotch of her panties had wetted and swelled her considerably. She started her tracing again, but this time, after she completely outlined his tattoo, she trailed her fingers, along his rib cage pulling the sheet down his lean, taut body as she went. The slight shiver, it invoked, deliciously rippled his muscles and only confirmed what was already evident through the sheet; he was ready for her. When she reached his hipbone she stopped; now it was his turn.

One long, sensual, finger began caressing the crotch of her panties and her head dropped back against the pillow as her eyes closed in total ecstasy at the sensations playing behind her eyelids. She bit her lip to relieve some of the pressure building in the pit of her abdomen because she knew he would draw this out far beyond what she thought she could ever endure. It was as if he knew her body's capabilities better than she did; never once had he made her feel uncomfortable, dirty, or unwilling with anything he had enticed her body to do. It all felt so natural and beautiful, like she was destined to this type of expression through her body, with him.

As he finally slipped one finger under the elastic at her crotch, and skin to skin contact was made, she let escape the moan that had been trapped in her throat, since she had begun the self infliction upon her lip.

The moan unleashed the sexual predator that was at times the alter ego of Danny Messer, as he unceremoniously hauled her down beside him, covering her whole mouth with his, his tongue probing every recess of her mouth in alternation with her tongue probing his. Her hand could now reach farther down than his waist and she slipped it around to his latticed abs, letting her fingers trace those perfect little squares of muscle until she felt the customary response she was seeking; the clench of his abs and the stifled laugh against her mouth. He might be able to _drive her_, but she knew how to _stall him_. She laughed in small triumph back against his mouth and he muffled out, "Move the hand _lower_, Montana or I'll have to hold out on you!"

She moved her hand lower, and feeling his complete arousal, she muffled back, "I can tell you won't be able to hold out on me!"

As was often the case, she rendered him without verbal response. Therefore her second soft triumphant laugh turned to a small gasp as he took his sweet revenge by finally sliding a finger inside her, rocking her gently. In short time, he moved his probing mouth from her now appropriately swollen lips to the valley between her breasts, pushing aside the fabric of the shirt as he went along. Ever since she first had worn one of his button downs she had learned to fasten only one or two buttons because it shortened the access time. She was building stamina but it was still not her strength.

Both her hands were on him now, and she fed the intense pressure building in his groin with her skillful alternations of caressing and massaging. He slid another finger inside her and she knew this time she would not be able to hold on and wait for him; there had been too much thinking and watching of him while he had slept. One of her hands left him to clench on his wrist and help drive his hand to give her sweet release, while the other clawed the sheet, fisting it in pure frustration, as his mouth and tongue punished her nipples relentlessly, bringing all the sensations to a head in one completely still and utterly soundless moment…. then her climax washed fully over her body; hard and fast, with a shudder, and a moan of his name in conjunction with the word 'god' that left no doubt of her total release and his part in it. As her moans subsided into whimpers, he kissed her one last time in the valley between her breasts and nuzzled into her neck, his goatee tickling roughly against her skin. His fingers gently pulled out of her and caressed her inner thigh with tenderness, while his other arm drew her close to his chest as her aftermath whimpers subsided into a long contented sigh.

"Don't go to sleep on me, Montana," he murmured gruffly into her ear.

"Mmmm," was her only reply as she sank into drowsiness, her breath playing across the hairs of his strongly muscled chest.

Her breath was warm and sweet upon him and he drowsed contentedly along with her, biding his time… until it was his turn.

She wasn't aware of how long she had slept, only of when she awoke, as his hand caressed seductively at her hip. Then there was his kiss in the hollow right behind her ear, and she was aroused. Her hands moved down to find him, but even as she moved, he deftly flipped her over to her side facing away from him. He cinched her back, tightly, to his chest, winding one arm over her waist, while sliding his other arm around and under her neck, over her shoulder and down, unbuttoning the two buttons of his shirt that she was wearing, sliding it off her body and tossing it…to somewhere. His other hand slid under the waistband of her panties and pushed them down until her legs could wiggle free of them of their own accord. Her ear lobe became the object of his mouth and tongue, while her hands craved to caress some part of him in her struggle to ease her mounting tension, but she was thwarted as he was behind her.

She wrapped one hand around the back of his head and craned her head around to meld her lips with his. Her other hand intertwined on the top of his hand that was caressing her down below. Piggybacking her hand on his only aroused her further as she could now 'feel' his actions with her hand.

As he skillfully caressed her to a peak arousal, he broke the intricate dance of their tongues and whispered urgently in her ear, "Condom, Baby!"

She ran her hand between the mattresses, until she found the little package and pressed it into the palm of his hand that was caressing her breast. Momentarily his knee nudged between her thighs and she felt him fill her from behind. Her moaning sigh signaled her extreme pleasure in the intense pressure that she felt upon his entry. She had only ever tried this position once or twice before him and had never liked it, her partner then, only able to manage the position completely on her back, the crushing weight making her feel a loss of control and a sense of claustrophobia. But the way that Danny managed it, made her feel _wholly_ _his_ in the most desirous and secure manner possible, as his strong arms banded around her to hold her flush against his upper body.

She craned her neck back and around again so that her lips could continue the dance of their tongues, while the moans in the back of their throats mimicked the rhythm and intensity of the movement of their hips. When they were close, he turned her and released her gently down onto her stomach and she relished the weight of his passion hardened muscles on her. Never completely weighing her down, he balanced himself on his forearms, on either side of her body, leaving her free to arc her back and hips up against him. She intertwined her hands on top of his and dropped her head between her shoulders as he alternately nipped and kissed the skin along the back of her neck and shoulders causing her to gasp and buck her hips up into him with each tender caress of his lips and sharp nip of his teeth. He met each of her bucks with a strong, deliberate, thrust of his own and she savored this position for its raw sensuality, its hint of alpha male as he drove into her from behind, and the air of non face-to-face mystique. But it was also a protective, tender position, as he hovered and balanced over her body with his own, meeting and returning her bucks with his thrusts, characteristic of an intuition only befitting a well-versed and caring lover.

When her moans became pants he could feel her clench around him, so he pushed harder and faster, to send her on her way so that he could follow behind her. When she moaned his name in utter surrender, he felt her spasm around him in waves and he clamped his hands upon her hipbones and rose up to bury himself deeply inside until his climax finished only moments after hers. They both collapsed in a heap, he a little to the side of her, so that he wouldn't crush her, his hand caressing her sweaty hair away from her face so that he could kiss her tenderly on her lips. She laid her hand along his cheek and returned his tender kiss. Their foreheads met and they drowsed again in the bright morning light that was quickly turning to afternoon.


	46. The New York Experience: Part I

**Author's Note I:** Thank you to all that have been waiting patiently for an update. I think I have a handle on the next part of the story so I'm posting again. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! And for all you out there reading but not reviewing, thank you as well.

**Author's Note II: **Special thanks to my hard-working beta, **MariaLisa**. I have been inundating her lately and I clearly owe her BIG! **HUGS!!!**

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are **mine**!

**The New York Experience: Part I**

_A_ _man loves his sweetheart the most, _

_His wife the best, _

_But his mother the longest. _

_-Irish proverb _

Finally emerging from the climatic induced haze, Lindsay lazily asked, "So what do you want to do today?"

With half-closed eyes and a smile upon his lips he murmured, "I'm doing it!"

Lindsay giggled softly as she caressed the hair on the back of his neck, "No, really."

He gave a slight groan as he replied, "OK! Eat!"

He heard a small exasperated sound emanating from her throat.

"Whaaatt? I'm hungry… I've been working up an appetite here!" he protested in mock indignation.

Lindsay flung the covers off her body and rolled out of the bed.

"Messer, I swear you have a two-track mind… sex and food!" she retorted as she made her way to the bathroom.

_And that's a bad thing? _

He propped himself up on his elbows and appreciatively watch her naked form disappear into the bathroom.

"Baby… a man's gotta satisfy his appetites," he teased back.

He heard her slightly disgusted snort and dropped back upon the bed with a groan, running his hands up over his face and through his hair.

"I want to do something very _' New York'_ today," she called to him as she turned on the shower.

"Like what?"

"I don't know… _you're_ the native New Yorker…surprise me!"

"How about we watch the Knicks game on ESPN?" he suggested hopefully.

The only answer was the slink of the shower curtain rings sliding across the rod and he figured he'd better get his ass in there quickly, before she used up all the hot water.

--------------------------

"So where are we going?" Lindsay asked curiously as she and Danny boarded a downtown bound subway. Her cheeks were flushed from the chill in the air and the brisk walk from her apartment to the subway.

Danny peered at her through his slightly fogged up glasses. He grabbed a subway bar with one hand and clasped his other arm around her waist as the subway began its transit to the next station.

"It's a surprise, Montana," he smiled conspiratorially.

A slight lurch threw her into him, her hands on his chest, and his arm tightened around her waist while they rode the sway of the subway until they reached their stop. Once at street level, they briskly walked through the lower end of the financial district to Whitehall Terminal.

"What? We're going for a ferry ride?" Lindsay asked incredulously as she spied the ferries moored along the dock.

"Yup, the ultimate way to see the sights of New York!" Danny crowed obviously pleased with himself.

Lindsay laughed and shook her head slightly as she looked up at the beaming Danny.

"You're taking me sight-seeing?"

"What? Ya don't want to see the sights?" he replied teasingly as he stopped suddenly and gave a characteristic Messer shrug.

Lindsay furrowed her brow in slight frustration, "When I said something _very New York_, I just didn't expect _sight-seeing_."

"Well, these ferries are no ordinary sight-seeing ferries, they are as New York as it gets! There's been some type of ferry operating between Manhattan and Staten Island since the 1700's. C'mon." he grabbed her hand with boyish enthusiasm and pulled her toward the terminal.

He pulled her along behind him as he wound his way among the other passengers, through the terminal, across the upper gang plank onto the deck of the ferry.

Almost as soon as they boarded, the low hum of the idling engines erupted into a rumble and the water began to churn and boil. The ferry laboriously pushed back from the terminal until it was free of the paralleling bumpers and then accelerated to its cruising speed.

Danny found a spot on the upper deck and pulled Lindsay into his arms as they watched the skyline of Lower Manhattan emerge from behind the receding glass walled terminal. He swept his hand with a flourish across the horizon.

"Eh, Montana, what do you think about that?"

"Breathtaking!" she exclaimed.

"Ya really think so?" he asked with a mixture of surprise and pleasure in his voice.

She looked up at him and caught the emotion in eyes. She slid her free hand up his chest and lifted onto her tiptoes to brush a quick kiss across his lips. His arm slid under her coat and around her waist to hold her in place against him.

"Of course, I always think the New York skyline is breathtaking."

"Really…that's not what you said the last time I called your attention to it," he challenged playfully.

"As I recall, you were putting it up against a wheatfield!" she retorted firmly.

"But c'mon Montana… a wheatfield? There's really no comparison," he exclaimed as he threw his head back in laughter.

"Then why did you offer it up as one," her eyes narrowed a bit.

His eyes focused on her set jaw as she stiffened slightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey… what gives Montana? Ya know it was just a joke!"

"Yeah, I know," her voice tight with emotion. "but sometimes if it's a tough day, or I'm working an ugly case then I get especially homesick and I guess it was just one of those days. I didn't want to hear anyone messin' with the wheatfields… it hits too close to home."

"Okay, I get it," he murmured against her hair as he pulled her into a tight hug. His thoughts played along her last statement… _it hits too close to home_. It had never crossed his mind that Lindsay might not think of New York as her home now.

_Messer_, _maybe this isn't such a good idea. _

"Hey, tell me about the skyline," she drew his thoughts back to her now smiling face.

He began pointing out notable buildings in the skyline and adding little snippets of information on them.

"And right there is where the World Trade Center stood," his voice took on a somber tone. "Everyone in New York lost someone that day whether they knew them personally or not."

Her eyes were on his face now, taking in the trace of redness around the rims of his eyes as he stared at the gaping hole in the skyline.

"Who did you lose?" she asked softly.

He shrugged.

"You know… friends and acquaintances on the force… and then Mac's wife, Claire. I barely knew Mac then, but he was devastated.

His misty eyes were trained on her now and she could clearly read the pain in his eyes even through his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger pushing up his glasses up to his eyebrows. She slid a hand around to the back of his neck and caressed it. He pushed his glasses back up on his nose with an index finger.

As he looked back at the skyline, there was a hitch in his voice, "And my cousin, Michael… he was a fireman and we were like brothers. My aunt… his mom… worked in the towers; my uncle has never been the same. These are Michael's dog tags from his days in the service."

He pulled them out from under his sweater and she fingered them gently.

"My uncle gave them to me at their funerals. He said he couldn't take the memories but he wanted someone close to Michael to have them, in remembrance."

Danny let the tags drop into her hand as he placed his hands on his hips, pressed his lips into a thin, bitter line and looked back at skyline. When he spoke again it was in a tight voice.

"The cruel irony of it all was that his mother fell on her knees and kissed the ground the day his carrier docked after his last tour of duty."

"Danny, I'm sorry..." she soothed as she slid her other arm up around his neck and pulled his head into her shoulder. Both of his arms slid down low around her waist and drew her into the arc of his body. She felt his hot tears trickle along her collar bone, while his cold nose sent a slight shiver down her spine.

When his emotion was spent, he gently pressed a kiss into the crook of neck and lifted his head clearing his eyes of any remaining tears with a thumb and index finger.

"I'm sorry this wasn't much of a sightseeing trip."

She shook her head and placed her hands on either side of his face, "No, no…. this was perfect. Sharing part of yourself with me… that's special and just the kind of sightseeing I'm into."

She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips and he felt a bittersweet emotion swell up inside him as he realized he couldn't bear to lose another person close to him, especially Lindsay.

The change in the whine of the engines indicated the approach to St. George Terminal.

"C'mon," he said as he released her waist, grabbed her hand, and tugged her along behind him. As was the custom on the Staten Island ferry, all passengers disembarked even if they were returning immediately to Manhattan, so Lindsay was surprised when Danny continued through the terminal and outside to the curb to hail a taxi.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously for the second time that day.

"Again Montana, it's a surprise," as he opened the door of the waiting taxi.

"Aw come on, just one little hint," she teased as she snuggled into him in the back of the taxi while he settled an arm around her shoulders.

He gazed down at her twinkling eyes, her rosy nose and cheeks and the delectable cleft in her chin that deepened as she smiled persuasively up at him.

He dropped a quick kiss on her nose, "Okay, we're going to eat the best Italian food found anywhere on the island."

"I should have known it would involve food!" she retorted as she playfully swatted his arm.

"Ow Montana… be nice to the man who knows his way around the neighborhood!"

"Okay so tell me about the neighborhood," she dared him to speak of his past.

He didn't disappoint her as he pointed to a passing park and launched into an entertaining tale about his little league days. He had her laughing so hard over the image of little kids trying to manipulate oversized gloves to catch fly balls and not trip over their own feet in the process that she didn't notice the taxi stopping in front of a well kept home until he helped her out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk. She gapped at the line of homes up and down the street in surprise and uncertainty. He was smiling at her but his eyes were unreadable

"I thought we were going to eat," she said faintly.

"We are… my ma cooks the best Italian meal on the island; she even puts the little, old, Italian ladies to shame," he stated proudly as he tried to pull her up the walk toward the house, but she didn't budge a step.

"What… your mom… we're going to see your mom… I'm going to meet your mom?" she exclaimed.

" Montana, what's up? You seemed so curious about my family; I thought it'd be…"

"But Danny," she interrupted quickly looking up at him in consternation. "You didn't give me any warning… I can't meet your mom without any warning… I'm probably not even dressed properly." She knew that sounded lame but it was the first thing that made its way from her brain to her mouth, even though it was doubtful that it was a thought worthy of her brain.

"Lindsay, c'mon it's just my ma… and you look great… in fact better than great!" he added as he took in her form fitting, ribbed, deep purple turtleneck, slim cut jeans, belted low on her waist, and her high heeled, black boots.

She tucked her hair nervously behind her ear and he felt trepidation at her hesitation. His family certainly wasn't the all-American family; maybe this lighthearted attempt at introducing them to her wasn't the right approach after all.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him while she clasped the lapels of his coat in her hands, her breath warming his face as she expressed her concerns more softly this time. "Danny, I'm just surprised that's all. You never talk about your family and then boom you spring this on me. It is not like me, to go into a situation so…. unknown, so unprepared."

He fixed his blues eyes on her, matching the softness in her tone, "I know Lindsay, but this is who I am… I like to do things on the fly… I didn't do it to throw you off, I swear. You said you wanted a New York experience and I want to give you an experience that reeks of New York… not some experience that any tourist can have, but what it means _to me_ to be a New Yorker."

She gazed at him tenderly. No matter how much he flew by the seat of his pants, his heart was always in the right place; it was the least she could do to meet him halfway and it was true that she was curious about his family.

"Okay," she relented.

"Good, because Ma's expecting us," he exclaimed with a relieved sigh.

"What? She knew but I didn't!" Lindsay protested.

"Baby, I had to let her know we coming, so she could start cooking!" he flashed an innocent smirk at her.

"Always thinking with your stomach, aren't you?" she tightened her grasp on his coat lapels a little tighter and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

"No, not always" he mumbled as his arm snaked around her waist and the other hand cupped the back of her neck under her hair.

"Aye, Danny!" A lilting voice interrupted the kiss that had turned from affectionate to passionate in mere seconds.

Lindsay gave a small start as Danny emitted a slight chuckle in the back of his throat; they both turned toward the source of the interruption.

"Ma!" Danny exclaimed affectionately as he intertwined his hand in Lindsay's and walked up to the house.

Lindsay only had a few moments to take in the appearance of Mrs. Messer before they ascended the front porch; she was nothing like Lindsay expected. For starters, her voice bore a soft, melodic Irish accent and she stood only slightly taller than Lindsay. She sported a slim and trim frame with burnished copper hair falling in waves around a face which curved into high cheekbones and a wide mouth which bore a delighted smile at their arrival. However it was her eyes that captivated Lindsay. They were Danny's eyes; a mesmerizing, crystal blue that conveyed intense emotions and compelled you to know more about the owner.

"Danny, I've been missing you."

Danny gave her a kiss on the cheek and a tight one-armed hug. Mrs. Messer responded by placing her hands on either side of his face and looking deep into his eyes as she exclaimed, "Aye, you look so healthy and happy!"

Before Danny could reply, she released him and turned to Lindsay bestowing a dazzling smile before taking Lindsay's free hand in both of hers.

"You must be Lindsay."

Danny squeezed Lindsay's hand, as a wide smile creased his face, "Yeah Ma, this is Lindsay Monroe. Lindsay, this is my ma."

She sighed softly. "I've been waiting so long to meet you."

"Mrs. Messer I'm so happy -- " Lindsay offered with a shy smile.

"No, no, "she shook her head emphatically, "Mrs.Messer is my mother in law, Danny's nonna, I'm Caitlin, please call me Caitlin."

Lindsay enjoyed the way her tongue clicked against the back of her teeth as she repeated the name, "KAYT-lin."

"Nice to meet you Caitlin,"

"Danny has been speaking of you since he met you at the zoo!"

Lindsay's eyes danced in amusement and her mouth formed a small 'o' as she stole a quick glance at Danny just in time to catch a scant blush creeping up his neck. She'd never seen him blush before; she filed all this telling information away for future consideration, discussion, and possible teasing.

He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as he ducked his head toward the house.

"Ma, I smell something delicious… let's go in."

"Yes, let's go in," she agreed, dropping Lindsay's hand, stepping over the threshold and motioning them inside.

"Come into the kitchen, whilst I finish dinner and we can get to know each other."

She led the way through a comfortable and homey living room and dining room through a swinging door into the kitchen. When Lindsay entered the kitchen, the overpowering aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and Italian herbs tantalized her. She had never been in a working Italian kitchen before and the experience fanned her minute pangs of hunger into intense cravings for marinara and pasta.

"Mmmmhh! Ma you may not have an Italian bone in your body but you cook like you do."

Danny grabbed her into a tight squeeze planting a grateful kiss on her cheek. As he released her, she turned to Lindsay, her blue eyes dancing.

"Lindsay… in case you haven't noticed Messer men love their Italian food! When I married Joe thirty plus years ago, his mother took me aside and said if I wanted my marriage to last that I would have to learn to cook like an Italian! Aye, and here me, an Irish woman through and through, cooking like an Italian."

Lindsay laughed as she glanced knowingly at Danny. "Believe me I have noticed. And it certainly smells like you've mastered the art."

Caitlin smiled in appreciation, as she motioned to Danny, "It is an art, indeed…. Danny, open the wine and let it breathe."

Danny turned to the butcher block in the middle of the kitchen as Lindsay settled herself on a stool next to it.

While he tended to the wine he asked casually, "So is Dad coming home for dinner tonight?"

Caitlin bustled over to the sink to drain a steaming stock pot of water as she answered.

"I called him at the shop after you called me and he said he would try to get away in time for dinner."

Danny uncorked the wine, laid the cork across the top of the wine bottle, braced his hands against the butcher block and stole a quick glance over at Caitlin who was now shaking a colander of pasta.

"So things haven't changed much I see."

She turned with a shrug of her shoulders and a slight furrow between her eyebrows as she met Danny's gaze. "I don't know Danny… you know how it 'tis if he comes, he comes otherwise we eat without him."

Lindsay caught the "As usual," Danny muttered low under his breath and noticed how he was gripping the edge of the butcher block. She laid a hand on top his as he shook his head slightly. The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes as he turned to her and asked, "Ya gettin' hungry?"

"How could I not be hungry?" she smiled at him with a questioning arc of her eyebrows.

He shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgement of her silent question but changed the topic of conversation.

"Ma, anything else I can do to help?"

"Set the table and I'll bring in the food."

Danny dropped her hand and headed into the dining room through the swinging door.

"Let me help," Lindsay said as she stood up and held out her hands.

Caitlin deposited the steaming bowl of pasta in one of Lindsay's hands and the bottle of wine in the other. Lindsay pushed her way through the swinging door with a toe of her boot in time to see Danny finishing off the table by putting the wine glasses in place.

Caitlin followed behind with the remainder of the food. She was just indicating where Danny and Lindsay should sit when they heard the thud of a door.

"That would be Joe."

-------------------------------------------

**Author's Note III: **This is my first time introducing a new character so let me know what you think. _Always SJ_


	47. The New York Experience: Part II

**Author's Note I:** I should have personally replied to everyone that reviewed. If I missed you it was clearly an oversight.For all you out there reading but not reviewing, here is a big **Thank You**!!

**Author's Note II:** An immense debt of gratitude goes to **MariaLisa **for keeping my writing coherent and relevant and my characters believable and true! Special thanks to **BrilliantMadness** and **Sparkles** in keeping me from spiraling down into unnecessary melodramatics!

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are **mine**!

**The New York Experience: Part II**

_Tale il padre, tale il figlio.  
(Like father, like son) _

_-Italian Proverb _

The swinging door opened to reveal a smartly dressed man in an expensive charcoal gray suit and tie. The resemblance to Louie was uncanny. If Danny had gotten his mother's eyes, Louie had definitely come by his brooding eyes, wavy, dark hair, thick eyebrows, long face and full lips from the man who stood at the head of the table surveying the occupants with shrewd, watchful eyes.

"Cara," Joe murmured as Caitlin brushed a quick kiss across his cheek.

"Danny, how are ya?" He shook Danny's hand and gave him a quick, subdued hug with his other arm.

"Dad, this is Lindsay Monroe," Danny put an arm around her waist.

"Lindsay," he paused as he took her hand, his eyes staring into hers, "nice to meet you."

His Staten Island accent was as thick as Danny's but while Danny exuded energy through motion, facial expressions and speech, Joe Messer's countenance was one of restrained and subtle power. She could feel it in his handshake and the way his eyes scrutinized her. If she hadn't known she was among Danny's parents she might have given a slight shiver of disquiet.

"Let's eat," Caitlin declared.

They took their seats and Joe poured the wine. Steaming bowls of pasta, sauce and bread were passed around. Lindsay thought there was enough food to feed at least ten people but when she took a bite she knew she would be having seconds.

Her eyes closed and a small mmmhh must have slipped out because Danny, his mouth full of pasta which he quickly swallowed, said, "So, Montana, didn't I tell ya it was the best."

She smiled at Danny and then nodded in agreement at Caitlin, "It is delicious… I'll never eat Italian food again without comparing it to yours."

Caitlin beamed. "Aye, you're sweet to say so but I must hear about you now!"

"Aw Ma, give her a chance to eat!" Danny chided his ma good-naturedly.

"Danny, you came here to eat but you brought Lindsay so we could get to know her…so you eat and we'll talk!" she declared with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"So I know that Danny calls you ' Montana' because that is where you are from."

"Oh, is that what he told you?" Lindsay couldn't help replying sweetly. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he took a quick swig of his wine, but she decided against further teasing as she continued.

"You're right and all my family still lives there."

"I have never seen the wide open spaces of Montana however I am sure they would remind me of my native Ireland. Do you miss Montana?"

"I do but New York is growing on me."

"What brought you to New York?"

"I wanted to work in one of the best crime labs in the country, and I wanted to see something other than ranch life, small towns and wide open spaces."

"But didn't you feel lonely and lost when you came here? I remember when I first came to New York all those years ago from a small town in Ireland, it 'twas overwhelming."

"It was, but I love the bustle of the city, all the things to see and do, the intensity of the work at the lab and the anonymity of being among millions of people who don't know me and I don't know them."

Joe who had been quietly eating and listening coughed slightly, "A person who craves anonymity is usually running."

Lindsay, realizing how perceptive Joe was, carefully considered her answer before replying, "Agreed, but would you be referring to running from or running to something?"

He took a sip of wine but kept his eyes on her. As he set his glass down he shrugged slightly, "I don't' know…. you have to tell me, no?"

Lindsay nodded in acknowledgement of his thinly veiled command.

"Dad!" Danny said through clenched teeth.

"Joe, don't badger Lindsay, she's our guest." Caitlin cajoled.

But neither Lindsay nor Joe paid attention to the protests issuing forth from Danny and Caitlin.

Lindsay took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eyes. "Mr. Messer, I left Montana because my sister was murdered. Was I running away? Yes, in some ways, but I wasn't just running away, I was running to something as well. I came to New York to learn in the best crime lab because you see when I left Montana, the crime was still unsolved, and there is nothing I want more than to see the brutal murderer of my sister put away for good."

He nodded slightly as if nothing she'd said had shocked or disturbed him and Danny's jaw dropped to hear her admit to his dad what it took him months to glean from her.

"I'm very sorry to hear of your loss; so family is important to you?"

"It is everything to me," Lindsay declared without hesitation.

"As with me," he smiled approvingly.

"Dad, don't give us that bullshit," Danny blurted out as he slammed his fist down on the table making the flatware jump in abrupt disturbance.

"You doubt me, mio figlio?" Joe turned his hooded eyes and arched eyebrows on Danny.

"Hell yes, because your actions speak louder than your words. Where were you when Louie and I were growing up? Even now, always working at your own interests; jewelry, dry cleaning, your buddies. Those are your priorities!"

"That jewelry store and that chain of dry cleaners gave you a roof to live under, paid the bills… would have given you a decent living and kept them in the family too, if you hadn't thumbed your nose at it when baseball played out. Tell me, who is not putting family first now!"

"Thumbed my nose at it? That's crap Dad! I just wanted something I would enjoy doing. I couldn't be cooped up in a jewelry store or a dry cleaners for the rest of my life."

"Boys!" Caitlin shouted as she placed her hands on the table and stood up, first glaring at her husband and then at Danny. "As much as I'm sure Lindsay would love to hear the airing of the family skeletons, I say you either take it outside or let it drop."

"I say we take it outside," Danny muttered.

Caitlin shot him an exasperated glance, "Danny, are you still twelve?"

A small laugh slipped from behind Lindsay's hand and Danny shot her a look. She kicked him under the table and inclined her head toward Caitlin."

"Okay, let's drop it." Danny muttered.

Caitlin settled herself in her chair once more and smiled ruefully at Lindsay, "I'm sorry but men with Italian tempers and an axe to grind do not always make the best dinner companions."

She reached over and squeezed Lindsay's hand, "And I'm truly sorry about your sister."

When Joe had questioned Lindsay about her reasons for coming to New York she had felt nothing but strength and resolve, but Caitlin's expression of sympathy made a lump rise in her throat and tears swell in her eyes. She quickly dabbed them with her napkin and Caitlin gave her hand another quick squeeze.

" Montana, you wanna take five?" Danny asked in concern. She smiled and shook her head. He always asked her that when a tough case was getting to her; and just knowing that he understood was enough to steady her.

"Thank you for your concern," she glanced quickly at Joe and then Caitlin, "the murderer is in custody and I'm hoping for a conviction once he goes to trial."

Caitlin gave her hand another squeeze and then released it. "Lindsay that is wonderful news, let's drink to that!"

Everyone lifted their glass as Joe proclaimed, "_Occhio per occhio, dente per dente." _

The rest of the meal passed in pleasant conversation until Joe's cell phone rang. He pulled it from inside his suit pocket as he excused himself from the table and walked into the kitchen.

"Danny, do you want more to eat?" Caitlin asked as Danny slumped back in his chair and fiddled with the stem of his wine glass.

"No Ma, I'm done."

Joe returned, replacing the cell phone inside his suit and swallowing the last of his wine before announcing, "Cara, the meal was excellent as usual but that was Geno at store number 5; they are having some trouble getting the year end books in order and I must go down there."

"I'm sure it must be tended to, Joe," Caitlin murmured as she rose and rounded the table to give him a kiss.

"Dad, Geno has been doing this job for years, can't he figure it out for himself or at least hold off until tomorrow?"

"Danny, I'm sorry, but I have to meet with the gem dealers tomorrow and it will probably take all day. The books must be done soon because the accountant needs them right after the New Year. Christmas will be here soon and no one wants to work over the holidays."

Danny rose reluctantly from his chair and approached his dad.

Joe clasped Danny's shoulder and shook his hand, "Besides you know the old saying, eh?"

"Yeah, I know, L'occhiodel padrone ingrassa il cavallo." Danny recited with a sigh.

Lindsay was impressed at the way that the Italian rolled off Danny's tongue. She made a mental note to ask him what it meant later.

Joe gave a quick pat to Danny's cheek in a typical Italian gesture of affection and then turned to Lindsay.

She rose and shook his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Messer."

"Please Lindsay, call me Joe. It was a pleasure to meet you too, and I apologize for having business to attend to."

After Joe left, Lindsay and Danny helped Caitlin clear the dishes and put away the food.

"Ma, did ya make any dessert?" Danny asked poking around the kitchen.

"Aye," Caitlin replied appearing from the walk-in pantry with a plate of canolis.

"Ahhhh, Ma, you read my mind." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

They chatted amicably around the butcher block, drinking coffee and eating canolis until Danny reluctantly admitted that it was time they were on their way back to Manhattan. He called for a cab while Lindsay stacked the dishes in the sink. When Danny was finished with the call, he wrapped one of his arms around Lindsay's waist as he pulled her close to him.

"Did you get enough to eat?" he teased brushing a tantalizing kiss across her lips.

"Enough food… yes," she returned softly, feeling her body heat up at his nearness.

He dropped his arm from her waist and intertwined his hand with hers.

"Danny, the time has flown!" Caitlin exclaimed. "You must come back soon and bring Lindsay. You don't come often enough as it is, you know."

Lindsay smiled as Danny hugged Caitlin.

"Yeah, Ma, I know but work is so unpredictable with the shifts and the cases and being on call," Danny replied apologetically.

Caitlin grasp his chin in her hand as she looked him in the eyes, "Aye Danny, do you hear yourself?"

"Ma," he groaned.

She held his chin firmly.

"Danny, you sound like your father."

"Ma, there's a big difference between us…"

"What would that be?" she challenged, her eyes glittering.

"Ma!" Danny said exasperatedly.

Caitlin dropped her hand to his chest but held his eyes with her own.

"Danny, your father is an excellent business man; clients from all over the Eastern Seaboard come to purchase the unique pieces of jewelry that his craftsmen create."

"Ma, that's you; you design those pieces and I don't call it excellent business to cater to the Mafia," he replied heatedly.

Lindsay's mind snapped to attention upon hearing the word Mafia.

"Danny," she reproached, "he does not _cater_ to the Mafia."

"Ma, all you have to do is take one look at those guys and you know what they are, you can feel it in your gut!"

Lindsay wasn't sure she should be hearing this… that she wanted to hear this…. but Danny pulled her close when she tried to shift gracefully away from the conversation.

Caitlin clicked her tongue at Danny as she shook her head, "Danny, going on appearances and your gut will only land you in trouble… isn't that what they taught you when you became a CSI?"

"Yeah Ma, you're right, follow the evidence. One day though there will be enough evidence against one of those _guys_ and Dad will be in the wrong place at the wrong time and he'll go down with them," he declared vehemently.

Caitlin patted his chest consolingly. "I trust your dad; he knows what he is doing."

Danny grasped Caitlin's hand and gave it a squeeze, "Don't be so sure, Ma."

The doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of the taxi.

"Ma, we gotta go, I love ya!" Danny placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Aye, I love you too!"

She grabbed Lindsay's free hand and pulled her cheek to cheek. "Lindsay, it was such a delight to meet you!"

She pulled away, her blue eyes twinkling and her wide smile creasing up into her high cheekbones. "You must have Danny bring you back." She gave Lindsay's hand one last squeeze.

"I would love to come back. I enjoyed this evening. It has been a very long time since I've sat down to a family meal." Lindsay's smile mirrored Caitlin's.

The doorbell pealed again and Caitlin spoke quickly as they all hurried to the door.

"Danny you must do me a favor."

"What is it, Ma?"

He opened the door.

"Promise me you will take Lindsay to go see Uncle Sal."

A gust of cold air swirled through the door as he looked at her questioningly.

"Promise me!" she entreated.

"Okay, Ma, sure, I promise."

He gave her another quick kiss and they hurried out to the taxi.


	48. The New York Experience: Part III

**Author's Note I:** One would think that I would be capable at this point of writing 2200 words on my own but alas I am not! So thank you to **MariaLisa **for keeping my English _proper_ and removing that _illplaced_ comma! Thank you to **BrilliantMadness **for keeping my English _improper_ and italicizing that _significant_ word! Thank you to **Sparkles** for being a _reflective beacon of my soul_! **Big Hugs**

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are **mine**!

**The New York Experience: Part III**

_Suspended neither aft nor fore but amid _

_Floating on a turbulent sea between two _

_Worlds, that threaten to collide and sink _

_The vessel, upon which the future rests. _

_-Sally Jetson _

With an arm securely around Lindsay's shoulders, Danny settled into the back of the taxi sliding his other hand over her abs, deftly pulling her sweater out of the waistband of her jeans to caress her warm and silky skin. He wanted to touch her intimately to reassure him of their connection. The evening had gone about as he had expected. His parents had loved Lindsay, the meal had been excellent and the tension between him and his dad had been thick, as usual. The conversation about his Dad and the Mafia concerned him. He held his lips in a gentle kiss against her forehead willing her thoughts to enter his mind.

Lindsay, craving her own sense of reassurance, leaned against Danny allowing his heartbeat to calm her. Her mind whirled through the events of the evening alighting on that final revelation about Danny's father. There were so many questions and not enough answers. What if Danny didn't have the answers? What if he had answers but she didn't like them?

"Danny?" she murmured, deciding to ease into the subject, "I enjoyed meeting your parents."

"They enjoyed meeting you," he returned softly.

"Tell me more about them."

"Well, my ma is… special. I wouldn't be who I am today without her. She never let up on me when I was growing up, ya know, keeping me in baseball and off the streets, cooking all the time."

"You really like her cooking." she teased

"Hell, I dream about her cooking. Think ya could learn to cook like her?" he pulled back so she could see the hopefulness in his face.

Lindsay teased, "You know I don't have an Irish bone in my body!"

He nuzzled into her neck, "Oh I could help you with that part!"

"Messer, you have a dirty mind!"

"Admit it Monroe, you love me for my dirty mind."

She pressed kisses along his jaw line until she made her way to his ear and murmured, "You're pretty full of yourself aren't you?"

The conversation stalled into a tantalizing exchange of kisses and caresses until the taxi arrived at the ferry terminal.

An icy blast of wind greeted them as they exited the taxi and dashed into the terminal building. Once cozily seated next to each other on the ferry, Lindsay's thoughts drifted back to the evening with Danny's parents and that one word, _Mafia_.

Danny, lost in his own thoughts, tried to figure out the best way to broach the subject that had caused him so much trouble and heartache throughout his life.

"Danny, Lindsay" they both spoke at the same time.

Uncertain, azure blue eyes interlocked with questioning, soulful, brown eyes.

"Lindsay," he intertwined his hand with hers. "There are some things I have to talk to you about but I don't know where to start."

"Tell me about your dad." she stated simply.

He took a deep breath as he rubbed his hand along his jaw.

"Not much to tell, he's my dad but we don't have much of a connection."

"Why not?"

"I don't measure up to his standards. He's a shrewd, business man who cuts deals with important people. When I was a kid I wanted to be just like him but turns out I was just a dumb kid who didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground."

"Aren't you being hard on yourself?"

"Nah! When I was a kid I did a delivery job for a wise guy. Of course I didn't know he was a wise guy, I just recognized him as one of my dad's clients and I'd seen Louie do the same thing for the guy before. At dinnertime, when I showed off the ten bucks I just knew my dad was gonna be proud. But when Dad's jaw dropped and Louie kicked me under the table, I knew somehow I'd screwed up."

"Danny, you were just a kid."

"Ya know; I just never understood _why_ it was 'bad business' on the street but in the shop it was 'good business'. The more questions I asked, the more frustrated Dad became. That was another thing my dad didn't understand about me…the questions, I always asked questions until I was satisfied with the answer!"

"But that's what makes you such a great CSI!" Lindsay began to feel a bit defensive on Danny's behalf.

"Answering questions is not my dad's style; _he's_ the one who likes to ask the questions. Anyway, my parents had it out that night, and that's when my ma put me in baseball with my Uncle Sal, who coached a recreational team. Soon baseball became my life. Hell, I spent more time with my Uncle Sal than I did with my own dad." Danny said bitterly.

"Danny, I'm really sorry."

He stood up and walked to the window, hands shoved in his pockets, staring out at the lights of the approaching skyline.

"That's not the worst of it though."

"Are you talking about the business with the Mafia?" Lindsay's stomach knotted when she said that word, _Mafia_.

"Dad claims it's all above board."

"But you don't believe him?"

"How can I? All my life I've seen those guys on the street and in my dad's shop. I went to school with their kids. After a while, you get to know who is who and you get to know that you don't do business with them without becoming involved. Their idea of life and business are interconnected; they don't make a distinction."

"But that doesn't prove that your dad is doing something illegal."

"No, but it goes back to that old, Italian saying: Dimmicon chi vai chi ti diro chi sei."

"Which means?"

"Literally: Tell mewho you go with and I'll tell you who you are, or in other words, a man is known by the company he keeps."

Lindsay rose from the bench and stood beside Danny.

"I can't tell you how many times I have had to go up against that. I had to battle my way through the Police Academy; apparently the name 'Messer' rang some 'bells' especially with that asshole, Gerrard," Danny hissed

Lindsay nodded. She'd had a couple of encounters with the cantankerous, mean-spirited Captain Stanton Gerrard. He was old school NYPD and had little regard for CSI's or women for that matter.

"Dad's shop has been under surveillance more times than I can count and the NYPD and the FBI have files on him."

"How do you know about the FBI files?"

"I have friends from the Academy who entered the Bureau and they've done some unofficial checking for me. Nothing is pending against Dad but clean people don't always come out clean in these investigations."

Danny let out a slow breath before continuing.

"The thing that scares me the most is that one day he might get a subpoena to testify against one of these guys and suddenly he and our whole family become a target. I mean you saw what happened to Louie when he went up against the Tanglewood boys."

His voice hitched on Louie's name.

She laid a hand on his arm and said, "Louie did what he did because he loves you."

His voice was tortured, "I know but seeing him the way he is now…. I wouldn't want that to happen to anyone else that I care about. I think it would kill me to lose anyone else."

He rubbed the back of his neck vigorously as he bowed his chin to his chest.

"I feel like I'm trapped between two worlds; one that I don't care to go back to and one that I've never quite fit into."

He dropped his hand and looked at Lindsay, the pain and worry evident in his eyes.

"I've always managed to keep them separate because anyone who has ever meant anything to me has always been firmly in one world or the other…until now…"

Her heart flipped at the enormity of the meaning held within his words.

His voice grew very soft as he splayed his fingers across his chest, "Lindsay, I'm serious about you… about us but I can't let it go any further without you knowing the truth about my family and the risks of being involved with me.

"Danny," she began but he hushed her with a finger on her lips.

"Lindsay, I don't want you to say anything right now because I want you to think… I mean really think about this. If you have the smallest doubt or any hesitation whatsoever, let's end this now… before either one of us gets hurt."

She felt the tears gathering in her eyes as she turned away and tried to focus on the lights of lower Manhattan. The stunning beauty was lost to her though as the lights of the buildings blurred into their reflections shimmering on the water.

She leaned her forehead against the icy glass as the scalding tears cascaded down her cheeks. When Danny realized she was crying he tried to pull her back against his chest but she whirled around to face him.

"So that's it! That's how you want the fate of this relationship to be determined? Because you don't want to take a chance… a chance that you might get hurt later on."

She didn't know where the anger was coming from but it was forcing its way out of her body via her mouth as though it had a life of its own.

"Lindsay, please…"

He had expected her to get upset about the Mafia connection, not about their options for the relationship.

"Danny, I always pegged you as a fighter not as someone who avoids something over the possibility of some hurt feelings, but if you want to talk about hurt feelings, I'll give you hurt feelings. I'm _hurt_ that _you_ aren't willing to put your trust in me…. that you don't trust me to be there for you as you've been there for me. That _hurts_!"

"Lindsay, I'm trying to do the right thing."

"The right thing?" she challenged, "Okay, Danny, I have doubts… let's see _you_ end it."

"Lindsay, you're not being fair! You haven't even had time to think about it yet."

"I'm not being fair?" Her voice softened, "Danny, are you really giving _us_ a chance? Have _you _thought about that?"

The docking of the ferry and the ringing of Danny's cell phone brought the conversation to a halt.

"Damn!" he exclaimed as he looked at the caller id.

"Mac, whaddya got?"

He nodded as he listened to the instructions issuing from the other end of the phone.

"I'm on my way."

Lindsay gave him an understanding nod when he sighed and said, "C'mon I'll get ya a taxi."

They walked in silence until they reached the curb outside the terminal and Danny hailed a cab.

He opened the door for her and as she bent to get in he said, "Lindsay, I….I don't know what to do about us."

She straightened and turned, standing between the opened door and the taxi.

"Danny, it can wait… go do what you have to do… we can talk about this later. But I want you to know I've made my choice. I want to be with you."

She leaned over the door, laid her hand along his cheek and pressed her lips against his tenderly and his heart swelled in joyful expectation that this could work out. But once she slipped down into the taxi and it pulled away from the curb his confidence faltered.

As he turned and looked out over the yawning blackness of the bay the menace of his old life threatened to surge forward and drown the promise of his new life with Lindsay. He wanted a brisk walk to clear his mind, but a frigid wind whipped off the water so he consoled himself with a short jog to the subway stop.

As he wearily sank into a seat on the train, he ran his hands up over his face and through his hair leaning his head back against the glass. Once again he cursed himself for getting involved with a complex woman. She had worked her way into his heart, allowing him to hope that he could have a life with her. But he knew now even if he had to physically let her go, his heart would always belong to her and there was nothing he could do about that. He had absolutely no _fucking_ idea what he was going to do now.

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**Author's Note II:** I should have personally replied to everyone that reviewed. If I missed you it was clearly an oversight.For all you out there reading but not reviewing, here is a big **Thank You**!!


	49. A Shadow Falls

**Author's Note I:** Thank you to **MariaLisa **and **BrilliantMadness **for beta'ing, supporting and encouraging.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are **mine**!

**A Shadow Falls**

_A shadow follows, inky in its cast but elusive in its dispellment _

_Separating in its essence but binding in its origin. _

_What makes a shadow vanish but direct light from above? _

_Or no light at all. _

_-Sally Jetson _

Gentle, lulling, laps of water patterned a peaceful beat against the graveled shore while the stifled city sounds and enveloping darkness alluded to a tranquil night. But the stench of garbage and rotten fish choking the air, and a reflected glow of the city lights in the sky, reminded him that he was only a short drive away from one of the largest populations of humanity on the face of the earth and yet, not one could save him.

The crack of a gun ricocheted through the night followed by a dull thud.

----------------------------------------

The sound splintered through her dreams.

She bolted upright in her bed shivering from the clamminess caused by the perspiration soaked bedclothes. She instinctively turned to the empty spot beside her, swallowing a lump in her throat at the realization that he wasn't there to hold her in his strong arms, rub his stubbly chin against her forehead in comfort, and whisper, "S'ok Montana."

She had slept fitfully since that night at the ferry, when they had parted with questions still hanging in the air. She hugged her knees to her chest in small comfort as the memories came rushing back.

That afternoon, everything between them had been perfect. After their conversation, she had tried to decide which had rattled her the most; the fact that his dad may have Mafia connections or that he seemed ready to end the relationship just like that. He had been rock solid for her, but now she saw a whole new side of him; his doubts and his insecurities. She'd told him she'd made her choice to be with him, but did she have enough courage and confidence to steady their relationship in the face of these new obstacles?

The doubts had increased as the days had passed and she had not seen him. After the double shift he'd pulled after leaving the ferry, he had text'ed her:

_2 tired 2 talk, home 2 sleep _

Since then their shifts had not coincided.

She gazed wistfully at the baseball cap on the nightstand. Her heart twinged when she picked it up and fingered the trademark logo. He had tossed it aside when he had forgone watching the Knicks' game in favor of taking her to Staten Island for _her_ 'New York Experience'. She thought about how he always wore it regardless of the sporting event.

_She had teased him, "How can a baseball cap be lucky when you're watching basketball?" _

_"Never doubt the magic of the cap, Baby. If you do it'll come back to bite you in the ass!" He had replied with a cheeky grin. _

She smiled weakly at the memory but it couldn't overcome the rampant discord playing in her mind. Is that what was happening here? Were their doubts coming back to bite them in the ass?

The ringing of her cell punctuated her melancholic musings. As she glanced at the display, she actually welcomed the distraction of processing a crime scene in the pre-dawn hours.

-----------------------------------------

When Lindsay approached the scene she saw Danny talking to Flack. She knew their paths would eventually cross but it still made her heart jump to see him close up after so many days of absence from her life.

"Hey guys, what do we have here?" she asked in the most professional tone she could muster.

Both Flack and Danny nodded good morning to Lindsay.

She noticed that Danny looked as bad as she felt. At least she knew he wasn't sleeping any better than she was. Whether it made her feel better or worse she didn't have the time to consider that as Flack began to explain.

"I was just telling Danny it looks like a professional execution; a bullet to the back of the head. The positioning of the victim indicates he was on his knees, most likely begging for his life."

"Do you think it's a hit?" Danny inquired.

Lindsay's stomach clutched

"Could be, but there was no effort to conceal the body so if it is a hit I'd say they're trying to send a message to someone. The officers are still looking for a murder weapon; I'll help in the search while you guys check out the vic."

"Alright, we'll take a look."

When Flack walked off, Danny turned to Lindsay.

"Ya okay?" he murmured as they started toward the crime scene.

"Yeah, you?"

"Tired."

"Me too."

As they ducked under the tape Danny stopped suddenly and Lindsay brushed up against him, causing a warm flush to course throughout her body.

"Holy fucking Mother of God," he rasped out as he crossed himself.

She instinctively put her hand on his arm.

"Danny, what is it?"

He knelt beside the body peering intently at the face. She looked over his shoulder but did not recognize the victim.

"Danny is this someone you know?"

"Yeah I know him, poor bastard" he ground out, "This is Geno Licciardello. He is head bookkeeper for my dad's dry cleaners."

Danny stood abruptly, almost knocking Lindsay over. He reached out a hand to steady her. Disbelief and worry registered on his face as he stared at her as if he was realizing for the first time that it was Lindsay standing there.

"Danny?"

He pinched his nose between his fingers and placed his other hand on his hip as he muttered under his breath, "I don't _fucking_ need this right now!"

He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and looked at Lindsay, "I'm going to have to remove myself from the case and… I think you ought to as well."

His last words hit her like a ton of bricks.

Her brow furrowed uncomprehendingly, "Me? But…. but I don't know him."

"I know that, but whether you realize it or not, you are connected."

"Danny, I've never even laid eyes on the guy before," she protested, widening her eyes.

Her mind refused to accept what he was saying.

"Lindsay, you don't understand, it is too risky. The fact that these guys dumped the body here and not on Staten Island is no coincidence. Who knows exactly what they're after or what kind of message they are trying to send but you don't mess around with them. Trust me on this."

He waited for his words to take effect, but her eyes narrowed as she thrust out her chin in defiance.

When she finally spoke it was soft but steely, "I understand that you are connected; you know the victim. But I do _not_ know the victim and I have a job to do."

She turned, knelt beside the victim and opened her kit.

"Stubborn," he muttered under his breath.

He turned and ducked under the tape, heading toward Mac who was just arriving on the scene.

"Danny what do you have?"

"Mac, we got a middle-aged male with a single gunshot to the back of the head."

"Is Lindsay processing?"

"Yeah, Mac… about that."

Mac raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I know the vic. His name is Geno Licciardello from Staten Island and he works as head bookkeeper for my dad. I'm taking myself off the case."

"Thanks Danny, good move. You can go back to the lab and help Stella and Hawkes on their case and I'll help Lindsay with the processing here."

"Mac"

"Is there something else?"

"Um…" Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think Lindsay should work the case either."

"Does she know the vic as well?"

"No," he sighed.

"Danny, you're going to have to give me more than that to go on."

"Okay, okay, it looks like a hit. The body is dumped here, not on Staten Island. There was no attempt to hide the body. We were just on Staten Island a few days ago visiting my parents. It just doesn't sit right with me."

Mac's lips set into a grim line. "You know I can't go on gut feelings."

Mac glanced over at Lindsay and then back at Danny. His face softened as he clasped a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Danny, I understand your concern, but since Lindsay doesn't know the vic and we have no proof at this time of anything else going on, I'm going to keep her on the case. Lindsay is a professional, she understands the risks."

"Mac!" Danny ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Mac answered firmly, "Danny, go back to the lab."

----------------------------------------------

Once back in the lab Lindsay began methodically processing the evidence. The officers at the scene had found a gun tossed several hundred yards away and she lifted some clear prints and made a note of the serial number. Ballistics was working on a match between the bullet and the gun, while Sid was confirming the cause of death. Once the fingerprints were running against the database she began examining the clothes and the other items found on the vic. The wallet contained nothing out of the ordinary; the id, money and credit cards were all still present. The only trace found on the clothes was consistent with what was at the crime scene. She sighed as she looked at the remaining item, a medallion showing a family coat of arms and the word Licciardello inscribed around the perimeter. It was exquisite craftsmanship, and she turned it over, noting the initials CM inscribed on back.

A lab tech laid a folder on the table beside her. She examined the contents and confirmed that the bullet in the vic matched that of the gun found at the scene. A beep from the computer signaled matches on the fingerprints, and she glanced at the monitor.

_God, no!_

She quickly printed the results and with shaky hands placed them in the folder.

The conflict originated in her brain and crept down into her heart, driving her breath in and out in short gasps. Another beep revealed a match to the serial number of the gun. Her legs quivered in trepidation as she focused on the monitor. The quietness of the room began to close in on her and she clutched the edge of the table, forcing herself to breath normally. After a minute or two she was able to press the print button, making sure to close the result window. She added the final result to the folder as she mentally began preparing for the conversation she knew she must have.

----------------------------------------------

"What do you have?"

"Results on the murder of Licciardello"

She passed the folder across the desk.

He opened the folder and his face hardened as he flipped through the pages.

"Mac, I have to remove myself from the case."

He nodded in agreement and then sighed, "Thanks Lindsay, I'll handle this myself."

Then he added as an afterthought, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I have a mountain of paperwork to bury myself in."

"Okay"

She rose and left his office before he could see the tears in her eyes. She found a quiet hallway and leaned against the wall, stemming the tears with a brush of her hand across her eyes. She unclipped her cell and punched in a text message.

_Need 2 talk now roof _

She allowed herself a few minutes in the hallway before heading to the roof.

Once she reached the door she paused to mentally brace herself, then pushed it open and stepped into the bright daylight, shielding her eyes so she could scan the rooftop. Danny was directly in front of her, hands braced against the waist-high concrete barrier surrounding the perimeter, his eyes focused on the street below. He whirled around when he heard the click of the door, folding his arms across his chest.

She ached at the sight of him.

His eyes never left her face as she walked reluctantly towards him. When she reached him she wanted to soften the blow; she laid a hand on his forearm and felt his muscle clench in response.

"Danny, I've taken myself off the case."

"What changed your mind?" he asked cautiously.

"It's like you said; I am involved."

His eyes brightened as he clutched her hand and pulled her close to his body, sliding his other arm around her waist,

"Lindsay, I'm relieved you finally see the risks involved with working a case like this."

Her body tingled at his closeness and she suddenly realized her mistake at the tactic she had chosen to break the news to him. He thought she was removing herself from the case because _he_ was her only connection to the case.

"Danny, you don't understand," she tried to inject a note of steadiness into her voice.

"What is it that I don't understand, Lindsay?" he spoke deliberately.

"I'm involved not because I know you," she paused to take a deep breath, "I'm involved because I know the suspect."

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**Author's Note II:** Okay a little angst here... in case you don't know I'm also a fan of angst... but hang with me. If you don't like it you can tell me. It won't hurt my feelings! Always SJ


	50. Dare To Take A Chance

**Author's Note I:** Thank you to **MariaLisa **for beta'ing, supporting and encouraging. As much as **MariaLisa **would like to own them, I claim all mistakes as my own! **LOL!**

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are **mine**!

**Dare To Take A Chance **

_Surrender your heart to me _

_And hurt, never will I let it be. _

_-Sally Jetson _

"Who… is it?" he asked, dropping his arms away from her and fisting his hands into his pockets.

She didn't have the heart to answer his question directly.

"There was a gun found at the scene matching the bullet in Geno. The fingerprints on the gun… and the registration… they all match to….your dad."

The last part came out as a whisper.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out and he quickly turned around to grip the barrier.

"This just doesn't make sense! Why would he…. damn him! I knew it would come to this," he said in tortured exasperation.

Danny abruptly pushed back from the barrier as he launched a vicious kick at it. She quickly placed herself between him and the barrier.

His eyes locked onto the horizon as she gripped the front of his jacket.

"Danny I'm sorry… but I'm here for you. We can get through this together."

With whisper soft fingertips she guided his face to look at hers and his eyes closed, relishing her touch. But her touch couldn't overcome his bitterness and disappointment.

"Lindsay, you don't get through this because it- never- goes- away. I've lived with it my whole life," he exclaimed, throwing his arms out and looking up at the sky as if lamenting to the heavens above.

"So what, you have a past. I have a past too. We all have our pasts. And guess what? We all live with our pasts."

He looked down at her and trailed his hand across her cheek to brush back the hair blowing across it. He marveled at her determination. All he wanted to do was protect her and all she wanted to do was to put herself out there to be with him.

His thoughts recalled her parting words after their conversation on the ferry.

_I've made my choice. I want to be with you. _

Did he dare to believe she understood what she was getting herself into? But, more importantly, did he dare take a chance that she would be there for him through it all?

His eyes searched her face for some silent confirmation, in the hope that he wouldn't have to utter the question. But he couldn't take a coward's way out and just hope for the best. He had to ask.

"But are you sure you want to live with _my _past?" he choked out.

Her hands were on either side of his face now, her gaze locked onto his.

"Danny, I'll live with anything as long as I'm with you."

He anchored her close to him praying that she could, because he needed her too much to let her go now.

----------------------------------------------

"Thanks Flack"

Danny clicked his cell phone closed and Lindsay looked up from her paperwork.

"Are they bringing him in?"

"Yeah, I'm going down to the precinct."

"I'm going with you."

His head jerked up quickly, "No."

"What… don't you want me there?"

_Did he want her there? Hell yeah he wanted there! But what would she see? What would she hear? Would she even want to see him afterwards? His mind ping-ponged through the questions. _

"Danny?"

Her worried voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Lindsay, I just don't think it is a good idea for you to come with me."

"Why?"

He knew that stubborn thrust of her chin.

"Look, I don't know what's gonna happen and I don't want..."

The words stuck in his throat. Why couldn't he admit it to her. He was _fucking_ scared that she would want nothing more to do with him afterwards.

"Lindsay, I just don't want you there," he ground out, immediately regretting it when she flinched at his tone.

"Ok Danny, but I thought we were in this together." she replied tightly.

He could see the hurt in her eyes, but only for a moment, as she quickly looked at her desk and began to straighten her paperwork.

He walked around the desk and stilled her hands by taking them in his, caressing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"Lemme try this again," he said with a deep sigh. "This could get ugly and I don't want you to see that because it might change your mind about us."

"Danny, how many times do I have to tell you I am here to stay?"

"Apparently every hour on the hour," he murmured as he kissed her knuckles.

"Look, if you don't really want me there I won't go."

For the life of him he couldn't recall the one thing he had done right in his life to deserve a woman like Lindsay, but whatever it was he was damn glad he'd done it.

"Nah, I want ya there."

------------------------------------------------

Both Danny and Lindsay stiffened as they watched Mac and Flack enter the interrogation room with Joe.

"Have a seat Mr. Messer," Mac gestured at a chair.

Joe seated himself, lacing his fingers together and laying them casually on the table. His demeanor was one of total confidence and ease.

"Mr. Messer, I know you are a busy man so I'll get right to the point."

Mac drew out a chair, dropped a file and an envelope onto the table and sat down.

Flack leaned casually against the wall behind Joe.

"As Detective Flack has informed you, an employee of yours was found murdered early this morning."

Joe nodded, "Yes, Geno Licciardello. I am shocked and saddened by Geno's death."

"Where were you last night between the hours of eleven pm and three am?"

"I was at the store with Geno going over the books until about 11:30. At that time I left to attend Midnight Mass. Geno said he would lock up for me."

"Did anyone see you at the Midnight Mass service?"

"But of course, the priest and the altar boys."

"Actually we were thinking more in terms of someone sitting next to you in the pew."

Joe's lips tightened momentarily as he fixed hooded eyes on Mac.

"Yes, my wife was with me. She is the one who likes to attend the Midnight Mass service."

"We'll have to verify that with her."

Joe inclined his head slightly as he replied, "Yes, of course."

"But that still doesn't get you off the hook," stated Flack as he came up behind Joe.

He placed his hands on the back of the chair and leaned in close to Joe's ear. "You see Midnight Mass is over at what… 12:45? Drop off the wife, make some excuse about the books, pick up Geno, drive into Manhattan. At that time of night it is a breeze to get into the city."

Joe ignored Flack as he stared straight at Mac. "I went home with my wife after Mass and was there all night."

"So if we question your wife, Joe; she's gonna tell the same story?" Flack hissed.

Danny and Lindsay flinched at Flack's tone. Hearing it used on an unfamiliar suspect was one thing, but hearing it used on Joe was unsettling to say the least.

"Yes; my wife does not lie."

"Well here's the kicker, Joe!" Flack pushed off the back of Joe's chair, "We found the murder weapon registered to you and with your prints on it."

Mac removed the bagged weapon from the envelope and pushed it across the table.

"Is this your gun, Mr. Messer?"

Joe eyed the gun. "It looks like my gun."

"Well big surprise, Joe; it is your gun, the registration says so," Flack snatched up the gun and thrust it close to Joe's face.

"That does not prove that I murdered Geno," Joe retorted, as he flicked a cold glance at Flack.

"Mr. Messer, a bullet from _this_ gun was found in the back of Geno Licciardello's head. This gun, which is registered to you and had your fingerprints all over it, was found at the crime scene. What other explanation is there?" Mac demanded.

"I gave it to Geno a couple of weeks ago for protection. He said he had suspicions that he was being followed."

"Fuckin' A, Dad," Danny muttered.

"C'mon Joe, you expect us to believe that? Why don't you just come clean and save us all the trouble of having to drag your wife in here to lie for you."

Flack slammed the gun onto the table and leaned into Joe's face.

Joe's interlaced fingers tightened.

"You leave my wife out of this!" Joe ground out.

Lindsay heard Danny mutter something in Italian.

Flack pushed off the table in disgust and paced around to stand behind Mac.

"So Mr. Messer, what was the motive?"

Joe stared blankly at Mac.

"Was Geno cooking the books, skimming from the till, robbing you blind?"

"Geno was like a son to me and his family is like my own. He was an honest man who was indispensable to me. I did- not- kill- him." Joe returned firmly.

"Okay, we'll play it your way… who do _you _think kill Geno Licciardello?" Mac shot back.

They eyed each other with a take no prisoner's vengeance; Joe, the seasoned deal maker and Mac, the hardcore military man.

A flash of black suddenly skirted across the observation glass as a trio of dark suited men entered the interrogation room.

"What the…," Danny exclaimed as he drew back in surprise.

"Detective Taylor?"

Mac stood up slowly, pushing back his chair in the process and turned to the man positioned at the head of the table.

"I'm Special Agent Ross and these are Special Agents Feldman and Reese of the FBI," the man gestured to the other men flanking the door.

"What can I do for you?" Mac eyed him warily.

"We have orders to take Joseph Louis Messer into custody."

"That interferes with my murder investigation."

"Believe me sir, we are aware of the murder of Geno Licciardello and if Mr. Messer has anything to do with the murder he will be charged and prosecuted."

"But we have evidence to that effect, and I want the freedom to complete this interrogation," Mac replied evenly.

"With all due respect, our case supersedes yours. We'll also take any evidence you've collected."

Mac stared at Special Agent Ross for a moment before he acquiesced, "I'll send the evidence over."

Then he turned and nodded to Joe, who rose from his chair and made his way to the door.

The agents followed Joe out of the interrogation room, flanking him once he was in the precinct bullpen.

"Dammit! Wait!" Danny exclaimed as he brushed past Lindsay out of the observation room.

As Danny approached the group, Joe glanced at him quickly, "Mi figlio, tell your ma it's gonna be okay."

Keeping his eyes trained on the group exiting the precinct, Danny stopped to answer his ringing cell phone.

"Messer!"

His attention was suddenly seized by the call.

"Ma, sorry… I didn't realize it was you…."

He let a long sigh, shaking his head wearily.

"Listen, I'm at the precinct and I can't talk right now. Lemme call you right back when I get outta here."

He jerked to attention.

"What? Dammit! Okay, I'm on my way."

He clicked his cell phone shut as Mac stopped in front of him.

"Mac, I gotta go straighten some things out for my ma since…"

Danny struggled to articulate the rest of the sentence but the last shred of composure began to crumble. He was not about to the break down in front of his boss in the middle of the NYPD precinct. No fucking way! He ran his hand across his mouth and looked up at the ceiling, willing himself into a pillar of stone.

"Danny, take whatever time you need. If there is anything we can do for you just let us know."

Overwhelmed with emotion, he only managed to nod his thanks.

Mac glanced at Lindsay, "See you back at the lab?"

"Yeah, I'm right behind you."

As Mac walked off, Lindsay spoke quietly, "Danny, I only have a couple of hours until my shift is over, then I'll come to…"

"I don't want to talk about this here," Danny hissed as he gripped her elbow and hurried her out of the bullpen, down the hall and through a door, shutting it firmly behind them. As Lindsay's eyes adjusted to the dim light of the supply closet, she jerked her elbow out of his grip and glared at him.

"Danny, you don't have to be so rough!"

"Lindsay, listen to me. I don't want you anywhere near Staten Island, do you understand me?"

"I'm only trying to be supportive; and besides, you aren't the only CSI here. I can handle it."

"This is no longer about being a CSI… this is… I don't even know what this is yet. Dad is in the custody of the FBI as a murder suspect. Ma is freaking out. She said the FBI is securing a warrant to search the dry cleaners and confiscate all the books. They are threatening to freeze all the assets."

Danny was now pacing back and forth within the confines of the supply room, gesturing wildly through his tirade, frantically trying to release the mounting frustration.

In that moment she realized he needed her to be calm and supportive, not confrontational. She stepped into his path putting her palms on his chest. His body heat sizzled against them as she slid her arms up around his neck. She rubbed her cheek against the rough stubble of his jawline and whispered.

"Whatever _it _is, _we_ will deal with it okay?"

His arms encircled her bringing their bodies flush.

"Lindsay I've never needed your support more than I've need it now…"

He pulled back to look into her eyes imploringly. "… but please for your own safety and my peace of mind, stay in Manhattan. At least until I can figure out what is going on."

"I'll try."

He kissed her gently.

"Gotta go," he muttered roughly into her ear.

"Be careful," she whispered to his departing back.

---------------------------------------

**Author's Note II:** For all you fluff fans there was a _kiss_ in the _supply closet_... sorry it couldn't have been more but it the timing just wasn't right. Give it a couple more chapters though. I promise... scout's honor. _Always SJ_


	51. Promises

**A/N:** Huge thanks to **MariaLisa** for the beta 'ing and the reality check. **Hugs!!**

**DISCLAIMERS:** I do not own any of these characters from CSI NY; however everything else is mine.

**Promises **

_The wind whispered your promise to me _

_And I captured it, never to be released _

_Because a promise from the heart is worth keeping forever _

_- Sally Jetson _

Danny approached the dry cleaners, as always he was startled by how small the place looked in comparison to his childhood memories. It had been built when he was a kid in anticipation of the population increase due to the opening of "The Verrazano". His dad certainly hadn't missed on that; now there were several dry cleaners across the island to accommodate the cleaning needs of the working population filing into Manhattan on a daily basis. Staring at the sunny yellow lettering painted on the front window he felt anything but sunny. The swarm of the FBI agents carting boxes of paperwork out of the building caused the knotted muscles between his shoulder blades to tighten.

A familiar Staten Island accent summoned his attention.

"Eh Danny, Whaddya doin' here?"

"Eh Tony, trying to find some answers, ya got anything for me?" Danny inquired as he shook the older man's hand heartily.

"Dunno Danny," Tony shrugged, "we opened the place as usual this morning and the next thing I know I hear Geno has been murdered, your old man is the suspect and now we're being overrun by these guys." He jerked his thumb toward the FBI agents.

"Hey you," a man in a dark FBI jacket tersely addressed Danny.

"Me?" asked Danny, raising his eyebrows and putting his hands to his chest in mock surprise.

"Yeah, you with the NYPD badge. You need to move it along; this is out of your jurisdiction."

As the FBI agent moved away Danny handed Tony his card, "Seein' as I've been warned off, I'll be on my way but if ya think of anything call me; here's my number,"

The FBI agent suddenly turned and approached Danny again. "If you don't remove yourself immediately from these premises I'll be forced to report you to your superior."

Danny smirked at the agent, who snatched the card from Tony and pointed it at Danny's face.

"And don't think I won't do it. I've got your information right here on this card."

"Ass," Danny coughed as he turned and left.

-------------------------------------

He watched the scene play out across the street, his lips stretching across his teeth in evil pleasure. Whacking the snitch had been a given but this… this was the answer to his prayers. With the old man pinned for the murder, the clientele was his for the harvesting. He grimaced as he picked out a familiar figure. That fucking bastard was worse than his old man by a mile. He scoffed; everyone knew you didn't get ahead in this world by becoming a cop, particularly a hide-behind-the-microscope type of cop. As he fingered the jagged scar along his cheek he cursed himself for not offing the bastard years ago when he had the opportunity, but his chance was coming...

Just as soon as he retrieved what was his.

----------------------------------------

"Mr. Messer, I urge you to reconsider. We can get you to a safe house and protect you. Out there our protection is not guaranteed."

Joe looked challengingly at the FBI agent, "I cannot sit in a safe house while my wife goes unprotected and my business languishes.

"We can post surveillance on your wife 24x7."

"What about the surveillance on Geno? What happened with that? Geno was murdered because your surveillance failed."

The agent swallowed hard.

Joe continued when he saw that he had made his point, "Now about my business, when will my books be returned to me and my shop released to do business again?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss that with you."

"But you know I have nothing to do with this… this fiasco," Joe disdained.

"Mr. Messer we would be remiss if we didn't rule out all possibilities."

"This is harassment. My lawyer will be in touch," Joe replied dismissively, as he rose to leave the room.

-----------------------------------------------

Lindsay had not attended a funeral since Laurel's death over two years ago and the memories ripping through her heart now threatened her thread-like composure. The sea of black swam before her eyes and she suddenly wondered why she had thought she could handle this. Her eyes focused on Danny. The distance separating them seemed much wider than the clusters of mourners and the gravesite that actually stood between them. Since Danny had left for Staten Island two days ago, their phone conversations had been brief. He had been distracted and worried, and she had not wanted to add to his anxiety with her questions. Her heart constricted now at how distinguished he looked in the somber, dark gray suit with the rough stubble neatly trimmed for the solemn occasion; but the dark glasses, hiding his eyes, only increased his remoteness.

As the priest closed the service, Lindsay debated her next course of action. She had a taxi scheduled to return any minute to take her back to the ferry. Maybe it would be best if she left now before Danny noticed her; he would most likely be unhappy about her being here on Staten Island. But she had come because she had wanted to see him, even if only from a distance. She watched him longingly as a middle aged man with closely cropped salt and pepper hair approached Danny and hugged him. Their ensuing conversation was emotional; evident by the way the Danny vigorously nodded his head and wiped his eyes. As they embraced again she heard a familiar voice calling her name and she reluctantly tore her gaze away from Danny.

"Lindsay I thought it was you," Caitlin issued softly.

She embraced Lindsay snugly but then arched back to look at her as she said, "Thank you for coming. It means so much to us, particularly Danny."

Lindsay's eyes pricked with tears and she struggled with her response as the sincere warmth emanating from Caitlin caressed her heart. "I'm… I'm…. truly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Geno was like a son to Joe and I. Joe is at a loss… he depended on him so much and of course Geno's family is devastated." Caitlin's sad eyes shifted away momentarily but then refocused on Lindsay. "But what about you? You must miss Danny terribly."

"Umm… I…" Tears finally filled her eyes.

"This must be trying for you too," Caitlin added knowingly. She dropped her arms and clasped Lindsay's hands in her hers. "Come back to the house with us now and have lunch."

From the corner of her eyes, Lindsay caught sight of Danny and the salt and pepper haired man approaching them, so she tactfully disengaged her hands from Caitlin's to wipe away her tears.

"I… I appreciate the offer but I can't. I have to be at work in a couple of hours."

"What? On Christmas Eve?"

She felt Danny's arm slide around her waist as he murmured into her ear. "Lindsay, I thought I told you to stay off the island."

Her knees weakened and a slight flush warmed her cheeks at the soft but steely tone in his voice but she also felt a sense of relief and comfort as his arm secured her against to him.

Before she had a chance to respond, the man accompanying Danny exclaimed, "Caitlin."

"Salvatore," Caitlin returned affectionately as she clasped his hands and they exchanged a cheek to cheek greeting. "Thank you for coming. I know this is hard for you because of Teresa and Michael."

"Of course, but I am always here for you and Danny…. And Joe too."

The first thing that struck Lindsay about Salvatore was the inflection of his thick Italian accent, the second was the haunting sadness in his eyes.

"Now Danny, who is this_ donna bella_?" Uncle Sal inquired, as he turned to Danny and Lindsay.

Danny gestured the introductions. "Uncle Sal, this Lindsay Monroe, Lindsay this is my Uncle Sal."

An oddly familiar smiled brightened Uncle Sal's face for a moment, as he squeezed Lindsay's outstretched hand.

"Lindsay I'm delighted to meet you, I just wished it was under happier circumstances."

"Me too," Lindsay murmured.

"Salvatore," Joe greeted as he approached the group and gripped Uncle Sal's hand. "It's good to have you here."

"It was the least I could do."

Joe extended his hand to Lindsay. "Lindsay, thank you for coming. It was not necessary."

"It is not easy to lose someone close to you," Lindsay empathized as his strong hand clasped hers. A twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach as she wondered if Joe knew that she was the one who had gathered the evidence against him in Geno's murder. Her musings were extinguished by the ringing of her cell phone. After she glanced at the caller id, she announced, "That's my taxi. I have to get back to Manhattan; my shift starts in a couple of hours."

"You will come tomorrow for Christmas dinner; won't you Lindsay?" inquired Caitlin, as she embraced Lindsay.

"Yes, I'd love to come."

"Wonderful; and Salvatore, will you come too?" Caitlin turned to Uncle Sal. "It has been too long. We can visit and you can get to know Lindsay better."

Uncle Sal glanced quickly at Joe who gave an imperceptible nod.

"Caitlin that would be a treat," Uncle Sal conceded.

"It's all settled then," Caitlin declared.

"Danny, we will catch up tomorrow, no?" Uncle Sal inquired as he gave Danny an affectionate hug.

"Sure, sure, I'd like that."

"Lindsay, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Yes, I look forward to it too," she smiled.

Danny leaned forward to brush a kiss against Caitlin's cheek. "Ma, I'll be back later, I'm gonna ride with Lindsay to the ferry."

"Good move, Danny," Joe conceded.

"That's not necessary Danny; it's broad daylight," Lindsay protested when she realized it was a tactic to insure her safety.

"C'mon Montana, I'm not taking any chances with you," he countered, as he intertwined their hands and headed toward the taxi.

After they settled into the taxi, Danny wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her sweet scent which he hoped would remain with him throughout the day. "Lindsay, I..."

Lindsay lifted her head to stare at her distorted reflection in his tinted glasses.

"Take off your glasses," she demanded softly.

"What?"

"Take off your glasses; I can't see your eyes."

"That better?" he inquired, as he removed the glasses, folded them, and put them inside his jacket pocket.

"Much better," she whispered, as she brushed her lips across his.

"Ya know I can't see to kiss you. I'll probably miss by a mile," he smirked.

"I think you know your way around me a little better than that," she insinuated, as she slid her hands up his jacket lapels and settled them at their customary position at the back of his neck.

He chuckled as he dropped his hand to her hip and began to mesmerizingly trace a circle with his thumb on her hipbone.

He closed in on her lips with a vengeance.

"It's been too long, Baby," he said huskily when they finally emerged for air.

"I know. When are you coming home?" she whispered, their foreheads cushioned against each other.

"God, I don't know," he groaned. "The FBI released Dad yesterday but he was in no mood to talk. I'm gonna see if I can get him to talk to me today. I really need to get a handle on what's going on here… because it affects all of us."

"I understand…" she pulled back to look into his deep blue eyes, "but we were going to spend Christmas together." She immediately regretted the words once they were out of her mouth. She was trying hard not to put pressure on him; she knew he was struggling to keep it all together.

"Danny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"No." He put a finger to her lips. "No, don't apologize for saying how ya feel. I know this is tough for you too."

A tear slid down her cheek. She couldn't help it. The funeral had stirred up such haunting memories, and now he was being so… so Danny… so thoughtful and sweet. The tears threatened to spill over in earnest as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. As his arms tightened around her, the dam broke and he held her in the shelter of his arms until her emotion was spent.

"Ya alright now?" He flanked her face with his hands and caressed away the last vestiges of her tears with his thumbs.

She nodded mutely and he dropped his hands back to her waist.

"Lindsay I gotta be honest with you. You showed a lot of strength and determination coming here today and I admire that. But…"

She looked at him questioningly. "But what?"

"You gotta be careful, Lindsay."

"I am careful plus I have protection in here," she assured him as she patted her purse.

"Damn!"

"What?"

"I hate the thought that you are carrying a piece because of me."

"Danny, I'm licensed to carry it, I know how to use it, so why should it matter why I carry it?"

She held his worried, blue eyes with her own earnest, doeful ones as she glided her hand down along his deliciously rough stubble, to trace the outline of his lips with her fingertips. "Besides if it allows me to be with you, I will carry it. And I really want to be with you. I miss you, Danny."

"Me too," he growled softly, as he kissed her hand then pulled it away to assault her lips once more. This time when they parted he choked out, "I promise, I will try my damnedest to be there tonight when you get off work, okay?"

"I know you will."

"Now get on that ferry before I make you call in sick!"

"Promises, promises, Messer," she teased as she exited the taxi.


	52. Whisper To Me

**Author's Note 1: **Big thanks to **MariaLisa** for the support, the encouragement, the beta and for trying to understand my sometimes unorthodox verb usage!

**Author's Note 2: **Special thanks to **Rouge989** for reading through this and giving me honest and supoortive feedback.

**Rated:** M for Erotica and one four letter word!

DISCLAIMERS: CSI:NY characters belong Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine!

**Whisper To Me**

_Whisper to me _

_Your little absurdities _

_And your solemn thoughts. _

_Whisper to me _

_Your soaring highs _

_And your gloomy lows. _

_Whisper to me _

_Your treasured secrets _

_And your darkest fears. _

_Whisper to me _

_Your innermost needs _

_And your heart's desires. _

_Whisper, whisper to me _

_And I'll whisper to you _

_'I love you'. _

_- Sally Jetson _

It was late in the evening by the time Lindsay's shift ended. She had not talked to Danny since he had dropped her at the ferry and the empty feeling that had been haunting her intensified into one of bereavement. Once she reached the quiet interior of her apartment, she bolted the locks into place and leaned her forehead against the door as a lone tear trickled down her cheek at the realization that she would most likely be spending Christmas Eve alone.

_At least I'll get to see him tomorrow. _

As she wearily pushed herself away from the door she gasped in surprise as two strong arms snaked around her; one around her shoulders, the other around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest.

"Merry Christmas, Montana," a familiar voice whispered into her ear. Her heart pulsed in sheer elation as his warm, spicy scent enveloped her senses.

"Danny!"

She tried to twist around in his embrace but he held her fast as he pressed an open mouth kiss into the crook of her neck. She allowed her head to drop back against his shoulder as his kisses blazed along the ivory smoothness of her neck to that sensitive hollow behind her ear.

"God Baby, I've missed you so much," he growled softly into her ear. I don't know how I've managed to be apart from you for this long."

"How did you _handle _it?" she teased, as she slid her hand up around the back of his head to angle it so she could singe his lips with her own. His lips parted against hers and their tongues thrust and swirled in an effort to penetrate and reclaim each and every crevice that had been neglected for far too many days.

"S'not important," he muttered, as he broke the kiss to caress his stubbly chin against her cheek, sending a delicious chill to tickle its way down her spine. "All I know now is that I am going to spend the entire night doing all the things to you that I've been fantasizing about since we've been apart."

"Mmm… what about my fantasies?" she throated, as she circled her cheek in turn against his chin.

"Was this in your fantasies, Montana?" he whispered, as he cradled the perfect swell of her breast in his hand, the tip hardening instantaneously on the gentle upward sweep of his thumb.

"How did you know?" she sighed in quiet satisfaction.

"Because it's in my fantasies too."

"How about this?" she returned, as she sensuously ground back into him, delighting, in the hardness she felt.

"Damn, Linds," he barely choked out, as he bent and nipped her neck.

"Owww, not fair" she squealed softly.

He whirled her around to face him, one hand tangling in her silken tresses, the other skirting down her back to cup her rear end and thrust her hips firmly against his.

"Does that level the playing field?" he murmured huskily.

"Considerably"

She smiled mischievously and held his eyes with her own as her hands deftly freed his shirt from his jeans, gliding her fingertips over the latticed abs that clenched at her feathery touch. When she reached his back, she lightly raked her fingernails upwards, dragging his shirt along until she reached his shoulders. He promptly lifted his arms and hefted his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor.

All his thoughts became focused on her tongue as it swirled and licked its way around his well-muscled pecs, until she centered in on his nipple with a quick nip which sent a sharp tingle deep into his groin…._fuck!_

He lost no time as he pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the far corner of the room. His arm secured her against him as he trailed one finger down between the gentle swell of her breasts. Her forehead pressed against his as his finger slowly traced underneath the lacey edge of her bra, tantalizingly grazing the firm nipple. At this she arched back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. His hand impatiently brushed aside the fabric, relishing the goose bumps that rose on her skin as he alternately blew and licked her nipples to a puckered tautness.

Her hands were on his belt buckle in an instant as she unbelted, unbuttoned, and was well on her way to unzipping them when he caught her hands and secured them behind her back with one of his hands.

"Not yet," he murmured into her ear.

He quickly unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks then slid his hand all the way around her waist, pushing her slacks down and over her hips in the process. She quickly kicked free of her slacks and shoes.

"But what about you?"

He fingered her wetness through the crotch of her panties, quickly turning them from damp to drenched.

"Baby, my turn's comin' but right now this is about you."

He hooked his finger around the fabric convincing it to slide down her legs and join the pool of clothes gathered on the floor. As he glided a finger gently over her hot moist folds, a tremoring sigh escaped her lips

He lifted his head to look into glassy eyes that regarded him through desire laden eyelids.

"But I want it to be about _us,_" she breathed as he continued to caress her, circling closer and closer to grazing that bundle of nerves that would obliterate any logical thought whatsoever.

"It is about _us…_the _us_ that you believed in when I couldn't see my way clear."

And at that moment she couldn't see her way clear to protest, only to surrender as he finally stroked that sensitive spot. She sank her teeth into his shoulder.

"Ouch, Montana…" he chuckled. "I take it that that hit the spot?"

She nodded dumbly, strands of wavy hair catching on the glistening beads of perspiration forming along her forehead and delicately pinked cheeks.

"Hands, Danny… let go of my hands," she finally managed to plead.

He released her hands and they automatically wound around his neck, her lips pressing hot, mouthy kisses along his jaw. He hitched her up to his waist and carried her to the big arm chair that easily held the both of them and nudged it closer to the wall with his knee. As he knelt into it he set her up on to the back of the chair, his hands resting possessively on her knees while her hands caressed the back of his neck.

For what must have been the thousandth time in their short relationship, but certainly not the last, he sat back on his heels admiring the perfection that was Lindsay Monroe. She was a contrast in vision: creamy skin framed by russet waves and punctuated by rosy lips, tips and cheeks, while gentle swells and curves nestled between delicately honed muscles. Her emotions: serenity masked passion, determination clad vulnerability and closely held love mesmerized him. He was a complete slave to her and her femininity and he was going to worship her the best way he knew how.

She was no stranger to the erotic elicitations of Danny's tongue but being above him like this not only gave her the heady thrill of being utterly adored, but it placed her at a vantage point to observe every small maneuver on his part. She knew this was going to push her over the edge in record time.

His eyes met hers, and as she bit her lip in anticipation, he licked his in response. She gently removed his glasses and balanced them on the rolled arm of the chair. While he worked his way down her body with burning kisses, he slid his hands up her inner thighs until his thumbs buttoned into the little hollow at the crotch line. He knew just where to place his thumbs to hit the nerve that drove the pulsating tingle into her very center, causing her hips to arch out toward him.

And that's when he captured her in his mouth.

She was both sweet and pungent; her own unique scent and taste of which he would never tire. He inhaled deeply through his mouth, causing a shudder to reverberate throughout her body. Her fingernails raked across his scalp as his tongue delicately laced though each hot, swollen, moist fold. He released her thighs and shouldered them; his arms looping around the outside of them to grip her hips, holding her flush to his mouth as he finally swirled his tongue around that hard little nub that held the key to her eventual descent in utter and complete release. She gripped the back of the chair and thrust wildly against his mouth as the sensations overtook her.

"Daannyy…," she moaned, as her thighs vised around his head signaling the onslaught of her climax.

_Damn, Montana!_ _You're gonna squelch the breathing life outta me but at least I'll die a happy man. _

As her thrusts smoothed and elongated in time with her deep throated moans, he drank in her release, gently lapping and sucking until her movements subsided into whimpering pulses and finally sated tranquility. He placed a soft kiss on her inner thigh and grinned up at the climatic induced smile gracing her features.

"Ya definitely needed that, Montana."

She sighed fully, running a caressing hand through his spiky hair.

He disentangled his arms from around her thighs allowing her now limp body to slide down into his lap. He cradled her against his chest as he turned in the chair and settled them comfortably into its deep cushions, stretching his legs lazily across the ottoman. She tipped her head back so that he could place a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. She dipped her head back down, her fingers curled snugly around his neck while her other hand buried itself between the cushions and his lower back, languidly stroking his taut muscles. He adjusted his head comfortably back against the chair, winding an arm around her waist and hooking the other into the crook of her knees. His breathing deepened and her languid stroking gradually stilled as the shadows lengthened across the room when the moon rose, full and bright, casting an ethereal glow upon the sleeping lovers.

Much later, Lindsay awoke to a numb nose, fingers and toes. Danny had relaxed his grip during their peaceful sleep allowing her to extricate herself carefully from his embrace. She wrapped her arms around her chilled, nude body, as she walked into her bedroom and slipped into a red, silk kimono robe he had bought for her on one of their ventures into Chinatown.

As she walked back into the living room, she smiled in recollection of his reasoning for buying her the robe, "Red looks hot on you, Montana," he had growled, but then he had added almost casually but not quite, "besides, red makes your eyes sparkle." That was Danny on the cusp of raw emotion and sweet contemplation.

She stopped beside the chair. His arms had dropped to his side, palms face up, his face posed in total relaxation. She knew he needed his sleep given all the turmoil that had occurred in the past several days and she wanted nothing more than to curl back up with him again and gain some precious sleep of her own, but her mind was churning. She could not put off breaking the news to him much longer. If she did, she'd be on her way to Montana for the trial of Laurel's murderer and he'd have no time to adjust to her absence.

She sighed as she brushed the back of her hand along the stubble of his jaw; she loved that sensation against her hand. She loved it along her cheek, in the crook of her neck and across her abs. She loved everything about him and she wanted him to know that.

"I love you, Danny," she whispered half hoping he was awake but half relieved when he didn't stir.

Maybe this wasn't the right time to say it. She didn't know what Montana held for her or what was going to happen with his family. Maybe it would be better not to complicate the situation.

She dropped her hand and walked around the ottoman to stand at the window staring reflectively at the moon. It had been full and bright during its ascent but now it was waning as it made its customary descent from the sky and she shivered.

"Ya cold, Montana?" Danny whispered, as he slid his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.

She nodded silently as he nestled his chin into the crook of her neck.

They stood in silence for several minutes.

Finally his weight shifted slightly as his arms tightened around her.

"Did you mean it?"


	53. Do Not Doubt

**A/N:** Big thanks to **Peanut2lb** for the most admirable job of parsing my long, involved sentences, deciphering my unorthodox verb usage and providing honest and useful feedback! hugs

I think I've replied to everyone that reviewed however I want to say thank you to all who are reading but not reviewing. I hope you are enjoying the story.

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Do Not Doubt**

_Do not doubt the sincerity of my words _

_As they issue forth from my lips. _

_For my actions have always shown _

_What surely you must have known _

_Since that first day we met. _

_That there is not a person who can meet _

_My hopes, desires, and dreams _

_With merely a look, a sigh or a smile _

_Or complete the duality of my being _

_As simply as you do, as only you do. _

_-Sally Jetson _

"Did you mean it?" he reiterated, a trace of urgency appearing in his voice at her silence.

She turned in his arms, placing her hands on his chest as she looked up at his expectant face.

"I meant it."

"Say it again."

The pause seemed longer than mere moments.

"Not yet… not until I show you… I want to show you first, Danny."

She tugged at his hand, and he followed her into the bedroom where she stopped beside the bed, turning to face him. Her hands sighed across him, releasing a tight groan from the back of his throat, as she finished unzipping his jeans.

She pushed his jeans and boxers down along his legs raining hot, ardent kisses the entire way. As her hair swept across his groin, he thought he was going to unload right there on the spot.

When her lips reached his knees, he wove his fingers through his silken tresses tilting her head back so he could see her face.

The whole night he'd been in control of himself but now… but now, his fists clenched in her hair as he rasped out,

"Damn, Lindsay… I don't know how long I can hang on here."

"You don't have to hang on, Danny. I'll do anything for you," she murmured tremulously, kneeling before him her small hands gripping the backs of his legs.

_Damn! With the darkness and the lack of glasses his vision was so blurred. It would be so easy to…. But something wasn't right he could sense it. Fuck, he wished he could see her face!_

When no answer was forthcoming from him, she moved upwards, her hands gliding up to cup his ass and he knew in an instant that no matter how torqued he was, he did not want her to go down on him, not here, not now, not this time. Although he knew from experience that she gave a phenomenal blowjob, her mouth, arousingly hot, wet and 'oh'ed' so perfectly to fit him and her hands an expert master of the stroke; this was _not_ the occasion for that. No, he wanted all of her this time, in absolute completeness with him.

He heard a faint sob escape from her and then he understood! _Messer, how can you be so fucking dense? _

He quickly squatted down on one knee, releasing her hair to cup her face in his hands feeling the wetness of her tears as he brushed his thumbs across her cheeks.

"Lindsay, I'm a first class ass!"

"What?"

"Lindsay Monroe, I- love- you!"

She fervently wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his neck, sobs racking her petite frame as he palmed the floor trying to keep them upright. He wound one arm around her shoulders, pushing off with his other hand to deftly lift them both up, looping his arm underneath her knees and laying her gently on the bed.

He stretched out beside her and whispered soothingly into her ear, brushing the hair back from her face.

"Baby, you can stop crying… It's okay… I'm here for you… I'm so sorry… I love you."

With those last words she started babbling, "Danny, it has been so hard being away from you… I didn't want to burden you but…. but I wanted to tell you and… and… when you heard me… and you didn't say it back…I…I…I knew then I shouldn't have said it… what with all you have on your shoulders and me leaving for Montana in a few days. I can't blame you for not saying it back… you don't have to say it just because I've said it."

She turned away from him and curled into a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her knees.

He frustratingly ran a hand through his hair and then touched her shoulder lightly but she shrugged it off. He knew she was under a tremendous amount of strain. Hell, he had certainly felt the strain since their 'talk' on the ferry. How was he going to convince her? Giving her no chance to resist, he quickly cinched his arms around her and anchored her back against his body.

"Lindsay," he pleaded hoarsely into her ear. "Ya gotta believe me when I say I love you… I know I should have said it back to you as soon as you said it…but…but…you caught me off guard and then I wasn't even sure I heard you right….and…when you said that you meant it. I needed to hear it again first."

At this she turned in his arms and laid a hand along his jaw.

"Why? Why did you need to hear it again first?"

He let out a deep sigh as he glided his knuckles across her cheeks to clear the tears.

"'Cause Linds, when it comes to the serious stuff, actions are much easier for me than words and until tonight. Until tonight, I could count on two fingers the number of women I've said those words to," he said holding up two fingers for emphasis.

"And who would those two other women be?" she teased, gently stoking a thumb across his lips.

He chuckled in relief at her return to lightheartedness.

"Oh you may know one of them, petite red head, cooks like a little, old, Italian woman, a real spitfire who has kept me in one piece until the woman of my dreams can take over."

Lindsay looked heavenward and let out a good laugh.

"What if the woman of your dreams doesn't want the job?" she questioned as she cast a mischievous look in his direction.

His face grew serious then he hastily disentangled his arms.

"Danny?"

As he hauled himself up from the bed, he turned back to her reassuringly, "Hold that thought, I'll be right back."

She heard him go into the living room, then come back and dig through the pockets of his jeans. He switched on a dim light, then the bed depressed with his weight as she sat up and crossed her legs.

"Here I got you a little something for Christmas."

She cupped her hands and he coiled a dainty gold chain into them.

Her breath caught in her throat at she stared at the glimmering pool of gold in her hands and then at his expectant face. He licked his lips nervously and inclined his head towards her hands.

She shifted the delicate treasure carefully into one hand and fingered it gently. Grasping one end carefully between a thumb and forefinger she uncoiled it to its full length, the dim light catching the filigreed medallion, barely larger than quarter, dangling at the end of the chain. It turned hypnotically casting glints across Danny's glasses as she stared up at his face in amazement.

"It's exquisite," she whispered. "How did you? Where did you…"

"Ya recognize it?" he asked, a pleased grin erupting across his face as he shifted his shoulder into her line of vision.

"It's an exact replica," she said disbelievingly as she dangled the necklace next to his shoulder, "of your tattoo…. so intricately and expertly crafted."

"Here let me put it on you," he offered as he took the necklace from her.

She lifted her hair as he leaned forward so he could clasp it at the back of her neck. She dropped her hair and he placed a tender kiss on her collarbone and trailed his index finger along the chain down to the medallion taking it into the palm of his hand and running a thumb across the surface.

"So what's the story?"

"Story?"

"With the tattoo. You once told me you got the tattoo in honor of your ma."

He grimaced and shrugged, then turned his face away to focus on something beside the bed.

As the seconds ticked by she finally murmured, "It's okay Danny; you don't have to tell me if don't want too… the necklace is perfect and I love it. I don't need to know the story."

He grasped the bat propped up beside the bed. It was his old Summer League championship bat that he had refinished for her; the one the CSI team had presented to her for her birthday, half-jokingly, for use as protection; the bat that she had used to beat off Laurel's killer when he had attacked her in this very apartment.

He suddenly whacked the bat on the bed causing Lindsay to give a visible start.

"It was a stupid bar fight… just a _fucking- stupid-_ bar fight… and it killed the whole dream."

"Danny, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

His lips were seamed in anguish and he gripped the bat tightly as if to take a couple of death swings at an unseen demon.

She laid a soothing hand along his thigh. He glanced down at her hand and sighed.

Finally he spoke with more composure. "After it happened, Ma said that my path was destined to go in another direction… that there was something else out there for me… something more important than a career in baseball. Course I didn't believe her… not at first… but as I worked my way through the police academy and then became a CSI it finally began to make sense…"

He looked at her with that familiar gleam in his eyes, the gleam that appeared when he was fascinated by a piece of evidence or when the case fell into place allowing them to nail the criminal.

"…Ya know, using the science to put the pieces of a puzzle together… to solve crimes and put well deserving scum behind bars. It gave _me_ a sense of purpose. When I realized that Ma was right after all, I chose one of the tribal pieces that she designs and had it tattooed on my shoulder…. just to thank her for believing in me."

He palmed the bat at each end and slowly rotated it around reading the signature of each CSI team member. When he finished, he carefully propped the bat back against the bed and turned to her, caressing her cheek.

"All those people, Danny… they believe in you," she said softly as she pressed his palm to her lips.

"And what about you, Lindsay?"

She placed his hand low on her hip and drew him down to her as she sank back into the bed.

"I not only believe in you; I love you, Danny."

As he fitted his well-muscled form atop her soft, inviting curves, the bed creaked in harmonious reassurance.

Her fingers began a hypnotic trace of his angled features and he closed his eyes in thorough concentration on the heat rising in the wake of her velvety fingertips. They tracked across his eyebrows, slowly, oh so slowly. They trailed down the side of his face following his whiskered-roughened jaw and brushed across his lips. She placed one kiss tenderly against his lips, as she feathered her hand over the bulging swell of his shoulder, outlining the tightened muscles of his back on her leisurely journey down to his waist.

He opened his eyes. This time, in the dim light of the lamp and with his lens-corrected vision, he could clearly see her. Her eyes were two luminous pools reflecting the very depths of her soul.

"Lindsay, I love you so much."

She gently removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table.

And with that he covered her mouth with his own as she wrapped her legs around his hips bidding him to enter. A primal need as ancient as humanity guided their actions as their bodies moved in flawless succession of each others' needs and desires. Each tightening of the thigh was rejoined by a tension heightening thrust. Every arch of the back was nurtured with a stroke of fingertips and a branding from the lips. Ever deepening sighs were echoed by intensifying groans. But the yearning in their hearts fulfilled a sacred and profound connection beyond that of the physical one. With hushed and reverent 'I Love You's', their glistening and trembling bodies collapsed into a familiar intertwining of limbs and a long awaited peacefulness.

--------------------------------------------

Hours later when the rosy fingers of the morning light enticed her eyelids to open, Lindsay stretched luxuriously relishing the weight of Danny's arm resting low on her waist, his hand curled possessively around her hip.

He stirred when she turned in his arms and instinctively he pulled her leg across his body tucking a hand behind her knee as she snuggled into the sheltering crook of his arm.

"When do you leave for Montana?" he murmured, his lips against her forehead.

"You heard that last night…. amongst all that crying and babbling," she teased, enjoying the springy sensation of the hairs covering his well-muscled chest as she palmed it.

"Crying, babbling, screaming, yelling, whispering, moaning, sighing," his voice was mischievous, " Montana, there's not much I don't hear. You got my full attention."

She reached across and started tracing the tattoo on his shoulder in procrastination. _Do we have to ruin a perfectly good day and talk about this now?_ Her stomach began to churn at the thought of the ordeal awaiting her out in Montana.

"Day after tomorrow."

As if sensing her anxiety, his chest rumbled against her arm as he began to speak, "I didn't tell you the rest of story."

"There's more to the story?"

She perked up and adjusted her weight onto one elbow so she could see his face. He stretched out his free arm, grabbed his glasses and adjusted them around his ears. Then he fingered the medallion hanging around her neck.

"Yeah," he said softly, "there's more to the story."

He took a deep breath and ran his hand down her arm to intertwine their hands.

"Remember when I told you I felt like I was caught between two worlds?"

She nodded as he fixed earnest blue eyes upon her.

"I don't feel that way anymore, Lindsay," he continued a bit more hoarsely now and she felt the tears filling her eyes, "'cause you've given me a world to belong to."

A tear escaped and he gently brushed it aside as he always did with all her worries and fears.

"So however long it takes you in Montana, it doesn't really matter, just hang onto this medallion and know that the other half is waiting for you to come back home."

Her face nestled into his neck as she murmured, "Danny, I'll be back, don't doubt that."

"I don't doubt ya, Montana," he rejoined as his arms tightened around her.

------------------------------

**A/N:** I had to gut my way through this one but I finally did it. Thanks to **MariaLisa** for her initial feedback before she got a wild hair and lit out for Texas! hugs


	54. A Very Messer Christmas

**A/N:** Flying without a net here so please disregard all mistakes! Thanks to **MariaLisa** for the quick thumbs up read through!

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**A Very Messer Christmas **

_Encircle me with mothering arms _

_And comfort my sorrow with tender love _

_While you speak reassuring words to me _

_Not, of what I cannot do, _

_But only of what I can. _

_-Sally Jetson _

The wind was bitingly cold as Lindsay stood beside the taxi while Danny paid the driver. Why did it always seem colder on Staten Island than in Manhattan? She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she glanced across the street and spied a darkly colored sedan housing two men, one surreptitiously read a newspaper while the other nonchalantly fiddled with the radio dial. She shivered again but this time it was in realization that this was the federal surveillance team that had been assigned to _keep an eye on _Joe Messer and his family. Her mind replayed the conversation she had had with Danny that morning. They had been curled up on her couch, she leaning back against his chest, ensconced securely between his legs, while she sipped a steaming mug of coffee.

_"Lindsay," he began cautiously, "I talked to Dad yesterday about his involvement with Geno's murder and the FBI." _

_"Yeah, what did you find out?" she questioned softly, gripping the mug tightly between her hands, not completely sure that she wanted to know. _

_Danny sighed deeply and she could feel his weight shift behind her as he pulled his hand away from her waist to rub it across his mouth. _

_"Not much really. He said he didn't have anything to do with Geno's murder. The FBI knew that and that is why they released him. They had to cover their asses though by searching his business and confiscating the books." _

_"Does he have any idea who killed Geno and why?" _

_"If he does, he's not telling me. He just says it doesn't concern me and that the FBI is keeping an eye on him and Ma as an extra precaution while the case is being worked." _

_She craned her head around to look at him. "What do you think?" _

_He pushed his glasses back up on his nose before he answered solemnly, "What possible motive would he have for killing his right hand man? I mean it just doesn't add up." _

_She looked at him intently. "That's your brain talking but what does your gut tell you?" _

_He clenched his fist as he tapped it broodingly on his knee, "Do gut feelings count in our line of work?" _

_"Danny, this isn't a case, this is your dad." _

_He unclenched his fist, letting out a slow blow of air through pursed lips. His hand skimmed over his head to grip the back of his neck; he cocked his head first to the right and then to the left before focusing his eyes on her. _

_"My gut tells me he's clean." _

Danny caught the object of her stare as the taxi pulled away. He curled a hand around her upper arm as he noted her furrowed brow.

"Ya sure about this, Montana? 'Cause if you're not I'll take ya back home all you gotta do is give the word," he stated decisively.

She bit her lip as her mind contemplated that word _home. _Where was home? Granted she enjoyed the pace and excitement of the city and her career was challenging and fulfilling; more so than it had ever been in Montana. But above all, it was Danny that gave her a sense of home. She belonged with him and she loved him. But was it worth the risk to be with him? She turned and drank in his intense blue eyes. _Home!_ There was no denying that she wanted to be with him no matter what the risk.

"No, Danny, I'm fine," she reassured him as she grabbed his hand and started walking backwards toward the house. "C'mon Cowboy, I'm hungry let's go eat," she grinned.

"Now you're talking," he grinned in return as she turned and led him up the walk.

As they stepped inside the warm and inviting house the lights twinkled merrily on the tree and carols floated melodically in air. Joe approached with a drink in his hand and an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth.

"Ma still not letting you smoke those things in the house, Dad?" Danny joked as they embraced heartily. "Who wears the pants in this family anyway?"

Joe took the cigar out of his mouth gripping it between his thumb and forefinger and pointed it at Danny.

"Danny, women rule the home. You best learn that now, mio figlio. It'll save you much heartache in the long run."

Joe turned to Lindsay with an engaging smile on his face, "Am I not right, Lindsay?"

Lindsay laughed in pleasure at this lighter side of Joe. "I have to agree. My dad doesn't question my mom when it comes to domestic matters." Joe's arms reached around her and gave her a warm embrace.

"Let me take your coats. Your ma's in the kitchen." Joe gestured with his head as he released Lindsay.

They piled their coats over his outstretched arm and headed into the kitchen. The mouth-watering smells that greeted them as they pushed open the door took a backseat to Caitlin's delight at seeing them.

"Danny, Lindsay!" she exclaimed as she hugged and kissed them both. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes twinkled. "You both look happy and relaxed! I take it you had a wonderful Christmas Eve."

"Yeah Ma, we did," Danny replied a little sheepishly.

"Danny!" Lindsay heard Uncle Sal's thick Italian accent as he clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder. They exchanged an affectionate hug.

"I'm glad you're here Uncle Sal, you remember Lindsay?" Danny queried as he slid his arm around her waist.

A mischievous light entered Uncle Sal's eyes.

"How could I forget _la donna bella_ that has captured _il cuore di Danny_.

Uncle Sal murmured something else in Italian as he brought Lindsay's outstretched hand to his lips and she blushed profusely.

"Uncle Sal, are you trying to make a move on my girl?" Danny chuckled.

Uncle Sal squeezed Lindsay's hand and raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Would you like that Lindsay? I could whisk you away to Italy, show you the most romantic spots…we could drink the most intoxicating wine…"

Lindsay couldn't help but giggle in guilty pleasure at the attention she was receiving from this charming and debonair Italian.

"Salvatore Risi, I will _not_ have you ruining my best chance for grandchildren," Caitlin chided playfully as she tugged at the crook of Uncle Sal's elbow causing him to drop Lindsay's hand.

"Ma, Uncle Sal's just teasin'" Danny joked.

"Is Salvatore causing problems here?" questioned Joe, coming in on the tail end of the conversation.

"I was just getting to know Danny's_ donna bella._ Can you blame me?"

Joe regarded Lindsay thoughtfully before he replied, "No I can't. Ms. Monroe is not only beautiful but she is a clever CSI as well."

"Lindsay," Uncle Sal's eyes twinkled, "if you change your mind about Danny..."

"Well, he does have this annoying habit of…" Lindsay began playfully as she stole a sideways glance at Danny.

"Alright Uncle Sal, ya made your point," Danny growled as he cinched Lindsay closer to his waist, grinning at her before quickly changed the subject. "Ma, when do we eat?"

"As soon as your nona gets here."

"What? Is she getting here under her own steam, Ma?" Danny's eyebrows raised in concern.

"Aye, Danny she is. You know how she is..."

"...stubborn," Danny supplied. "But she's over 80 years old."

"Danny, she'll be okay. It's Christmas Day, the streets are quite," Joe assured Danny.

"Dad, you're just scared shitless to go up against her."

"Watch your mouth, mio figlio." Joe pointed his cigar warningly at Danny.

"Who's old and stubborn?" challenged a slightly raspy but affable voice from the doorway of the kitchen.

Everyone turned to the elderly, olive complexioned woman whose swept-back, snow white hair gave her a delicate and elegant air but whose glittering coal black eyes hinted at resiliency and shrewdness.

"Ma!" Joe exclaimed, exchanging cheek to cheek kisses with the elderly woman.

"You're my favorite son, Joe, even if you are, _how did Danny put it_," she paused to glance at Danny wickedly, "_scared shitless_ of me."

She patted Joe's cheek affectionately and turned to Uncle Sal.

"Maria, you are captivating as always," Uncle Sal complimented as he brought Maria's hand to his lips.

"You, Salvatore," she wagged a bony finger at him, "are full of shit but you are still my favorite son-in-law."

"And there's my Catie, my only daughter-in-law who can cook a half-way decent Italian meal." Maria and Caitlin exchanged cheek to cheek kisses before Maria turned her attention to Danny and Lindsay.

"Danny, my favorite and extremely handsome grandson who has the balls to tell it like it is." Maria held her arms wide to Danny as he bent into her embrace.

Danny released Maria and reached for Lindsay's hand, pulling her close to his side.

"Nona, this is my girlfriend, Lindsay Monroe." Lindsay's cheeks pinked as delicious warmth seeped throughout her body at Danny's words.

"Mrs. Messer," Lindsay greeted politely taking Maria's hand.

"Lindsay, call me Maria." Maria instructed, "Mrs. Messer was my mother-in-law, Joe's Nona."

Lindsay smiled in secret amusement at what seemed to be a family tradition or maybe an aversion at not wanting to be called _Mrs. Messer_.

Maria held Lindsay's hand a moment longer as she continued, "I can tell from your looks and accent you are neither Italian nor a native New Yorker but…" and she leaned in closer to question Lindsay more intimately, "are you a good Catholic girl?"

Lindsay's mouth gaped in a perfect 'o' shape as her brain momentarily blanked. Caitlin's strangled, "Maria!" coincided with Joe's drink spewing forth from his lips and Danny's exasperated, "Nona!"

Only Uncle Sal had the equanimity to laugh good-naturedly, "Maria, your charming wit has not deserted you." He took Maria's elbow in his hand, turning her toward the dining room and enticed, "Let me pour you a drink."

"Now, you're talking, Salvatore," she concurred as he led her away.

"Lindsay," Danny muttered as he ran a hand across his mouth. "Nona is…"

"a senile, old woman," Caitlin finished quickly, "to whom you'll pay no attention!"

Lindsay, regaining her composure, laughed at the flustered expression on Danny's face and quipped with fake innocence, "Danny, if I had known that a good Catholic girl was what you were after I wouldn't have let you take…"

"Alright Montana, don't you start in on me too," Danny wagged a finger at her but his face was split from ear to ear at her quick rejoinder.

"Danny, why don't you get Lindsay a drink," Joe suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Why don't we put an end to this nonsense and eat," Caitlin suggested dryly.

After they seated themselves around the table, a toast was made to family, prosperity, and good health and the dining began in earnest.

Now that Lindsay was clued in to Maria's _charming wit_, she relaxed and enjoyed the fast paced conversation and good natured ribbing that flowed among the Messers…. until…toward the end of the meal…

"Joseph, I see that the Fed's are on your tail."

Apparently there were no topics that were off limits at the Messer dinner table, Lindsay thought as the activity around the table stilled.

Maria's nonchalant tone belied the deep concern in her dark eyes that peered over the rim of her glass. She took a sip of her drink while waiting for Joe to answer.

Lindsay noticed that Joe laced his fingers together and schooled his face into that mask of blank calmness that he wore the day he was in the interrogation room with Mac and Flack.

"Merely a precaution, Ma."

"A precaution? I hear talk in the neighborhood."

"There's always talk in the neighborhood, Ma."

"I hear talk about Nicky Roselli and a drug operation with the Columbians."

"Nicky Roselli, that fuckin' bastard!" Danny interjected vehemently. "Dad why didn't you tell me?"

Joe looked at Danny, a wave of sternness crossed his face while a deep pain was mirrored in his eyes.

"Mio figlio! Remember what I told you. This does- not- concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't!"

"Danny," Uncle Sal broke in, "let's go outside and have a smoke."

"Uncle Sal, I don't smoke!" Danny threw back in frustration.

"Danny, don't get all worked up about this, c'mon let's go!" Uncle Sal commanded quietly holding Danny's eyes with his own.

Suddenly Lindsay's cell phone shrilled pulling everyone's attention from the stare down between Uncle Sal and Danny to her.

She quickly pulled it off her belt and looked at the caller id.

"Is it work?" Danny asked in concern. Even though they both had the day off, Lindsay was on call.

"No, it's my parents. I need to take this," she apologized. "Is there someplace where I…"

"Of course, down the hall, first door on your left." Caitlin pointed down the hallway.

Lindsay quickly answered the call as she sat on the edge of the bed in the room Caitlin had directed her to.

She could barely focus on her dad's voice wishing her a Merry Christmas as her mind reeled through the possibilities of the Messers' connection to _this_ Nicky Roselli.

Soon however her thoughts had to converge on the phone conversation as her dad transitioned from pleasantries to questions about her plans to return to Montana. She robotically relayed the information to him until he told her that her mom wanted to speak to her.

"No, Dad, this isn't a good time," she pleaded instantly. _Damn, too late!_

"Mom, Merry Christmas," she forced brightness into her voice.

_"What kind of daughter doesn't want to wish her mom a Merry Christmas?"_ she chided herself. "_A guilty, cowardly one!" _the inner voice berated her.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm having a really great time with Danny's family." Her hands began to tremble.

"How about you? How are Kyle and Kurt?" Her heart thumped in her chest as she asked about her brothers hoping to keep the conversation light. Her mother made the obligatory remarks about her brothers. Then…

_"I'll see you in a couple of days, Lindsay." _

Even though her mom was making the effort, her voice sounded stiff.

"Yeah, I'll see you then. Bye Mom," Lindsay sighed in relief that the call was over.

She clicked the phone shut quickly as if that would quell the overwhelming surge of tortured memories flooding her mind. Her shoulders sagged as she agitatedly flipped the phone over and over in her in hands. She didn't know if she had the strength to do this. She didn't know if she could face her mom knowing that her mom blamed her for Laurel's death. She remembered her mom's angry words the night of Laurel's death.

_"Don't touch me Lindsay! This is your fault; you should have never left her alone." _

Things had never been the same between them since and it wasn't until Laurel's murderer had been captured in New York that Lindsay had been able to return to some semblance of a normal life. But that was in New York with Danny and now she was flying over halfway across the country back to Montana, to face the murderer and to face her mom. Suddenly she felt as if every bit of confidence, strength and resolve she had gained in the past few months had been obliterated with this one phone call.

Her tears began to fall uncontrollably as the bed creaked beside her and soft, comforting arms enveloped her.

"I can't do it."

The mantra tore raggedly from her throat as her hands gripped the arms encircling her, while her body rocked back and forth in time to her distressing chant.

Then a gentle answering began. To each tormented "I can't do it." there ensued a soothing, "Aye, but you can." until the rocking stilled, the grip relaxed and the chanting quieted.

Her hair was swept tenderly away from her face as one hand cradled her wet cheek. She instinctively leaned into the caress and murmured,

"But how?"

"By concentrating on what you _can_ do, one step at a time," the voice reassured her.


	55. The Meeting of Past and Present

**A/N1:** Bless **MariaLisa** and her _cotton-pickin' heart_ for beta'ing this during her layover in Houston, Tx! **Big Hugs**

**A/N2:** And back by popular demand, more Nona!

**Rated: M** for _language_ for those of you with sensitive eyes.

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**The Meeting of Past and Present**

_What is the past _

_When it stares, unflinchingly, at you _

_With time on its side _

_If not a hint at the future _

_-Sally Jetson _

"Lindsay? Ma?"

Danny tentatively entered the room as he saw Caitlin's arms around Lindsay, the younger woman's face tucked into the crook of her neck. He squatted in front of Lindsay and palmed her knees.

"Hey Montana, ya okay? What upset ya? Was it all that talk at the dinner table… about the Fed's and…"

"Danny," Caitlin began with a tinge of exasperation in her voice, "this isn't about the Fed's…."

"Then what's it about?" Danny replied a bit confused.

"Why don't you think about it for a moment, Danny."

Suddenly Lindsay murmured from beneath the curtain of hair that had fallen across her face.

"He can be a bit dense at times."

"They all can be at times," Caitlin commiserated as she stroked the hair back from Lindsay's face.

Lindsay reached out and intertwined one of her hands with one of Danny's that was resting on her knee.

"Thanks Caitlin for being here for me." Lindsay lifted her head and smiled faintly at Caitlin. "I can take it from here, thanks again."

"Are you sure?"

Lindsay nodded and Caitlin caressed her cheek as she reassured, "Danny has the strength to support you; don't be afraid to lean on him."

Then Caitlin firmly cupped Danny's chin.

"Danny, you need to put all this Nicky Roselli business out of your head; it will do you no good to go back there. Let the Fed's and your father deal with this, right now you need to be here for Lindsay. Understand?"

"Yeah Ma, sure..."

Danny grabbed Caitlin's hand as she rose from the bed and turned to leave. He squeezed it. "Thanks, Ma"

Danny took the spot on the bed beside Lindsay, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss against her temple.

"Sorry Linds. Ma's a great pinch hitter but I'm here for ya now." His thumb traced a comforting circle on the palm of her hand. "I know you gotta tough road ahead of ya going back to Montana for the trial."

She took a deep, tremoring sigh but didn't say anything.

He continued softly, "But I'll be calling you every day, probably two or three times day at least and…" She half-laughed and half-groaned at that. "And you'll have family out there backing ya up. There aren't many things better than having your mom to take care of you during tough times."

He felt Lindsay's hand tighten on that last sentence. He put a finger under her chin to lift it so he could look into her eyes; they were bright with tears.

"What is it?" he murmured.

Her chin began to tremble as she furiously swiped at the tears with the back of her hand.

"Danny, not everyone has a mom like yours," she replied in frustration.

He took a deep breath and mentally checked his thoughts before speaking.

"Lindsay, I know you think your mom blames you for Laurel's death but we both know that you're not responsible and I think that deep down your mom knows it too."

"But sometimes, Danny, people just don't let go of things. It's the way they distract themselves from the actual issue… the true cause of their pain. Do you know what I mean?"

Her eyes implored him to understand.

He looked away at hearing her question because something inside his gut twisted. He released her hand and ran his hand nervously down his thigh, stretching out his leg before bending it back into place.

Finally looking at her again, he replied softly, "Yeah, believe it or not, I know exactly what you mean."

Her eyes questioned him silently. _So what do I do? _

_I have no fuckin' clue! _His eyes answered.

He was in no position to give her answers… only love and support. That's all he had to give her. And that's exactly what he was going to give her!

"Lindsay, lemme talk to Mac tomorrow about taking a leave of absence. I'll take it without pay if I have to and I'll go to Montana with you. I'll be there with you every step of the way."

Her face beamed a watery smile at him as she cradled his cheek in her hand.

"You don't how much it means to me to hear you say that but hearing your offer makes me realize that this is something in _my_ past that _I_ need to deal with myself."

He opened his mouth to protest but she placed her fingers over it.

"Trust me, I want your support and I promise I'll be in touch constantly but…but this is something I have to do for me."

"Okay," he swallowed hard, the realization finally hitting him that she was leaving in a couple of days for who knew how long, to face God knew what and he wouldn't physically be there for her. Suddenly he wanted to have her all to himself, to make the most of every last second they had together.

"Hey, I don't know about you but I've had enough of the Messer clan; whadda say we head home?"

"Are you sure that it wouldn't be rude?" she replied with a trace of relief in her voice.

"Nah, not at all."

-----------------------------------------------

"Ma, we're gonna head back."

"Danny, so soon?"

"Yeah, I'm on tomorrow and with Lindsay leaving…"

"Aye, of course, let me fix some leftovers for you to take with you. Joe and I will never eat all this food on our own."

"That'd be great Ma."

Maria, seemingly dozing in a nearby armchair, gave a dignified sniff and rose.

"Lindsay," Maria wagged a bony finger at her as she approached, "Back in my day, women were taught how to take care of their men," she began without preamble, "But these days they don't do that so let me tell you the secrets to keeping a man like my Danny."

Maria beamed indulgently at Danny.

"Nona, I love you but…" Danny grinned back, wagging his finger at Maria.

"It's okay Danny," Lindsay's eyes twinkled and the cleft in her chin deepened, "I want to hear this."

"Ok Nona," Danny held his hands up in amused resignation, "let her hear it!"

"First you _must_ know your way around the kitchen. A man should never find the nourishment outside his home tastier than what he finds inside his home. And that goes for the bedroom as well."

"Now you're talking Nona." Danny rubbed his hands together enthusiastically in agreement.

"Don't interrupt me, Danny." She trained the bony finger on him. "It's rude and I'm not finished."

She leaned conspiratorially towards Lindsay and smiled that wicked smile that indicated that the other shoe was about to drop.

"And finally…" the rasp in her voice was more pronounced as she lowered her voice, "…secret money…"

"Secret money?" Lindsay questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"Nona, I heard that," Danny growled.

"That's right, Danny," she turned glittering eyes on him, "You're supposed to hear that."

"Then I don't get why it's called _secret_ money." Danny retorted, quoting the word secret with his fingers.

"The secret isn't the existence of the money. It's how much there is, where it's at and what it's for. After all a relationship is a two-way street. Lo capite mio nipote?" Maria paused dramatically.

"You mean like blackmail?"

Maria clicked her tongue disapprovingly and waved a hand at Danny, "No, no, blackmail is such an ugly word…. think of it as…. insurance…no, no… more like an incentive. She takes care of you but if you don't take care of her she has a way out."

She turned back to Lindsay and nodded once, emphatically, "Remember, secret money."

"Maria, you're a gem. I'll get right on that." Lindsay winked at her and gave Danny a sideways glance.

Danny grimaced at her as Caitlin remerged from the kitchen with one large bag and two foil wrapped plates.

"Ma, do you have secret money?"

Caitlin smiled knowingly as she set the items on the table. "Of course, Danny."

"And I thought relationships were about trust, love, commitment and all that other crap," Danny muttered.

"They are Danny," Caitlin patted him on the cheek patronizingly as she glanced at Lindsay, mouthing, "Secret Money."

Joe and Uncle Sal came in through the front door accompanied by a gust of cold air and the distinctive odor of cigar smoke.

"Dad, Uncle Sal," Danny implored, "Ma and Nona have been feeding me a load of crap about something called _secret money_."

Joe and Uncle Sal exchanged looks.

"Danny, let me pour you a scotch." Uncle Sal offered as he empathetically clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"No thanks Uncle Sal, we're on our way out."

"Dad?"

Joe pulled another cigar out of the box on the fireplace mantle and turned, "Cigar?"

"No Dad, I don't want a _cigar._ I want a _straight answer_."

"See, therein lies the problem with you Danny. You want to wrap your head around everything, pull it apart and understand it."

"Dad believe it or not, that's actually a good thing," Danny sighed exasperatedly

What can I say, mio figlio? It is a tradition. It protects all the involved parties." Joe shrugged.

"That sounds more like a business arrangement than a relationship."

"Business arrangements are relationships too." Joe countered securing the cigar between his teeth.

The ringing of Danny's cell phone interrupted the conversation.

"Our taxi's here," he announced.

"Keep your eyes open on the way home," Joe advised as he hugged Danny and then Lindsay. "Lindsay, always a pleasure."

"Take care, Joe." Lindsay smiled.

Maria hugged Lindsay, "Lindsay, if you ever have any trouble with Danny you talk to me. I know things and I have my ways."

"I'll keep that in mind, Maria."

Maria enveloped Danny in a fierce hug as she rasped into his ear, "She's a nice girl and I'm an old woman, mio nipote. Don't make me wait too long."

Danny felt a faint blush creep up his neck and hoped that no one noticed but Lindsay was busy with her goodbyes to Caitlin.

"Lindsay, I'll be thinking about you while you are out in Montana. Remember what I told you."

Lindsay scrunched her eyes closed to hold back her tears as Caitlin embraced her.

"I will," she murmured.

Uncle Sal cuffed a hand around the back of Danny's neck as he pulled him into a hug. When they pulled apart, Danny noticed a light in Uncle Sal's eye that he couldn't remember seeing since before his Aunt Teresa and Cousin Michael had been killed.

"Danny, don't worry about the secret money. I can see that you and Lindsay aren't going to need it, okay?"

"Isn't that right, Lindsay?" Uncle Sal asked as he wrapped Lindsay in hug.

"You're right and very sweet to say so," she agreed.

Danny nodded. "Thanks Uncle Sal."

"Danny, Lindsay, here are your leftovers."

Caitlin handed Danny the bag and kissed him on the cheek, wrapping her arms around him.

"Thanks Ma, I love you."

After Caitlin released Danny, she shrugged into her coat and picked up the two foil wrapped plates.

"Ma, what are ya doing?"

"I'm taking food to those poor men in the car across the street."

"Ma, I'm sure they have a stockpile of food."

"You know Danny, nothing can replace a hot, home cooked meal especially on Christmas Day. It's not right that those men have to be away from their families today," she argued as they stepped out into the frosty air.

"Ma, It's their job, I'm sure they're used to it." He shrugged, "I've worked plenty of holidays; it's no big deal."

Caitlin stopped at the bottom of the steps and put a hand out to stop Danny, "Now, you sound like your father."

"Ma, I'm nothing like…"

"Danny," she interrupted earnestly, "I don't want to have this same argument again. If you are nothing like him, then don't say things like him and don't act like him."

She turned abruptly. Danny wrapped a hand around her upper arm.

"Ma, wait, I'm sorry."

She turned back to him.

"Just promise me that someday when you have a family that you'll be there for them, okay?"

"Sure, Ma, I promise," he replied quietly.

She kissed his cheek and gave Lindsay's hand a quick squeeze.

"Take care of him Lindsay. He can be a tad dense at times."

"Don't worry Caitlin," Lindsay reassured her as she looped an arm through the crook of Danny's and pulled him gently toward the waiting taxi.

Once inside the taxi, Danny rubbed his hands up and down his thighs as he let out a long slow breath.

"Lindsay, do you think I'm like my dad?"

The vulnerability in Danny's eyes made her consider her answer carefully.

"Yeah, in some ways I think you are but I don't necessarily think that is an undesirable thing."

Danny gave a slight snort. "That's a very diplomatic answer, Ms Monroe."

She laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

"Look Danny, I think the more important question you have to ask yourself is, 'if you are like your dad and that bothers you, then why does that bother you?'"

They lapsed into silence, neither one aware of the passing scenery disappearing into the darkening evening.

Unexpectedly the taxi veered into a dark alley jolting them to the right and then abruptly forward and backward as it slammed to a stop.

"What the…" Danny shouted at the driver.

"Shut the fuck up," the driver snarled at him as he twisted around and leveled a gun straight at Lindsay, "or she gets it."

"Okay, I get it," Danny said cautiously as he raised his hands slowly into the air. Danny stole a quick glance a Lindsay and she nodded reassuringly to him when he caught her eye. _Good, she's okay!_

"Take it easy. I'm gonna reach for my wallet and you can have everything in it." Danny bargained as he began to lower one hand.

"You think this is about some measly hundred you may have in your wallet," the driver sneered as he motioned with the gun for Danny to keep his hands up in the air. "You are so fuckin' clueless, man!"

The door on Lindsay's side swung open and a menacing voice commanded, "C'mon! You! You're going to the other car!" The gleam of a gun barrel played across Danny's glasses as the gun motioned for Lindsay to get out of the taxi

Lindsay swung alarm-filled eyes towards Danny as he grabbed her wrist.

"No- fucking- way! She either stays with me or you let her go." he spat out into the darkness.

The chilling cock of the taxi driver's gun against his temple forced him to swallow hard but he wasn't about to be separated from Lindsay that easily.

He took a deep breath engaging all his suspect negotiating skills this time as he spoke.

"Look, whatever it is that you want I'm sure we can work something out."

"You're fuckin' right we're gonna work something out," the voice menaced again. "Give me your pieces and your phones, both of you."

After they passed the items to the waiting hand, a generic prepaid phone was tossed into Danny's lap. "Now call your old man, _Messer_!"

Danny's stomach lurched in recognition when the voice hissed out _Messer_.

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**A/N3:** I leave for vacation tomorrow and I don't know when I'll get the next chapter written but rest assured it is here in my head! LOL!


	56. Nothing Unites Like A Common Enemy

**A/N1:** Thank you to **MariaLisa** for the beta and thoughtful and insightful comments! **Big Hugs!**

**A/N2:** Thank you to all the readers and reviewers. The feedback is truly wonderful. If I didn't respond to everyone who reviewed I apologize and I continue to curse the dysfunction of the alert system!!!

**Rated: M** for _language_ again. Those bad guys just love to talk dirty!

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Nothing Unites Like A Common Enemy**

_The often evil parodist, Fate _

_Intertwines the lives of _

_Enemies continuing to threaten _

_Lovers yearning to fulfill destiny _

_Life bearers shouldering the grief _

_Heroes valiantly waging war _

_This is footprint of life _

_Yesterday, today and tomorrow. _

_- Sally Jetson _

_Messer_

Just hearing that voice inside his head made his stomach clench as tightly as the fists crammed into his pockets. He hunched his shoulders in defense against the barrage of thoughts.

_How could he have let her go? _

_What if he couldn't deliver what had been demanded? _

_What if something happened to her? _

The whiff of cigarette smoke curling toward his nose and the labored breathing just inches from his face not only interrupted his thoughts but disgusted him as well. The source was a slovenly, dim witted excuse for a man that he could have been easily disarmed… if only _her life_ wasn't hanging in the balance. He closed his eyes and cocked his head from side to side to try to clear his thoughts. _Think Messer!_ But lucidity failed him as frustration and anger set in again.

_This can't be happening. Not again!_

He expelled a puff of air through his lips as a welcomed figure approached from the inadequately lit walkway. From deeper within the shadowed recesses of the building, the taxi driver emerged and impatiently hissed, "Hail your old man!"

"Dad," Danny croaked, stepping forward with a beckoning wave then dropping back into the shadows as Joe joined him.

"Danny, mio figlio, what is the trouble?"

"Shut the fuck up, old man, and do exactly as I say," the taxi driver interrupted. He waved his slovenly cohort over to Joe. "Pat him down."

Joe raised his arms in compliance and Danny felt revulsion wash over him as he recalled Lindsay in the same position, the slovenly lech leering at her as he had run his pudgy hands over her. He and Lindsay had both surrendered their pieces without protest but he knew that patting down Lindsay had been a threatening show of power and a silent promise to him if he did not deliver. Lindsay had kept her eyes trained on him as he had sat helpless, gun to temple, inside the taxi. The defiant thrust of her chin and her front teeth wedged against her bottom lip had signified her resolve to weather the incident with as little emotion and as much dignity as possible. He knew she was tough and she could handle herself, but if anybody else laid a finger on her, he had vowed to hunt down the bastard and put him through a slow, torturous death befitting the devil himself.

_"If you touch her in any way, I swear, I'll make you wish you had died in that alley years ago!" _

_"Now there's an idea, Messer," the menacing voice had mocked as he had let his eyes roam over Lindsay's trim figure. "I have to admit, for such a fuckin' loser you got a fine piece of ass here. I wouldn't mind having a taste." _

_He had lunged toward the door of the taxi at that, but the taxi driver had anticipated his rash move and had clocked him solidly with the butt of the gun as the slovenly man had moved surprisingly fast and slammed the door in his face. His vision had blacked momentarily and when it had cleared; Lindsay had been nowhere in sight. He had thrown himself back against the cushions swearing at the rate and volume of ten sailors as he had pressed his hand to the back of his head to block the flow of blood._

Now, Danny flinched in pain as he gingerly fingered the gash at the base of his crown while the taxi driver continued his instructions.

"Give me your coat and keys."

Joe shrugged out of his coat as he evenly replied, "What does my son have to do with this? Let him go. He is of no service to us." Joe confidently turned to Danny. "Go home, mio figlio. I will handle this."

"Dad, you aren't the only one involved anymore." Danny snapped out.

"Danny, do not argue with me. Get Lindsay and go home." Joe commanded coolly.

Danny felt the heat of irritation and rage surge throughout his body at the way Joe was dismissing him.

"Dammit, why can't you just listen to me for once? I'm not a fuckin' kid anymore."

"Then don't act like one, Danny. Your hot-headedness is not doing us any favors."

"He- has- Lindsay." Danny let the words drop between them, swiftly purging the air of any animosity between father and son.

Joe vehemently swore in Italian and Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. His dad rarely swore in English much less in Italian but at least now he understood the gravity of the situation.

"Okay old man now you know the score, let's go," the taxi driver snarled impatiently

"Who has Lindsay?" Joe deliberately ignored the taxi driver.

"Nicky Roselli."

--------------------------------------------------

Caitlin sat curled up on the couch cradling a long-since cold cup of tea in her hands. The shadows, cast across her face by the dim light, mirrored the ones now plaguing her mind. She had discerned from the set of Joe's face, when he had taken the call from Danny, that something had been seriously wrong. Even with her hands desperately gripping Joe's arm, panic seizing her heart and contorting her face, he had refused to say anything more than he'd take care of it and she needn't worry.

_"Cara, it will be okay, I promise," he had murmured as he stroked her cheek and then flipped off the outside lights. He had looked cautiously through the window before slipping through the back door of the kitchen. _

She squeezed the cup wondering if she had enough worry, pain and anger in her to actually shatter the delicate teacup; because that is how she felt at this moment, shattered. She had already lost one son to the senseless crime of the streets; the son who was now just a shell lying in a hospital bed being maintained by machines. Could she bear to lose another one? The one who had so nearly been destroyed by the greed that fueled the crimes of the streets; the son who had fought his way back and was now on the verge of finding harmony and completeness in his life?

All she had wanted for her sons was for them to have happy and peaceful lives. But she had already lost one and felt the other one slipping through her fingers. And she felt utterly powerless to stop it.

_A mother's pain knows no end when her children suffer. _

She sighed bitterly as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

When she heard the whoosh of the kitchen door cut through the silence of the house, she scrubbed away the tears ready to confront Joe head on, to take him to the mat if necessary to get some answers. The bright light from the kitchen blinded her momentarily as the swinging door opened to outline a figure that couldn't be Joe even though it wore his coat. She stood quickly but the ample figure held a gun in a pudgy hand and directed her to sit back down on the couch.

----------------------------------------------

Lindsay leaned stiffly against the cushions in the back seat of the luxurious town car staring defiantly at the leering man next to her.

"Comfortable?" he nonchalantly mocked.

The long scar snaking from the corner of one eye down across his cheek and halting at the chin bone only heightened her awareness of his cunning and ruthlessness. But she would not allow that to intimidate her. She lifted her chin slightly but did not answer.

"What? Is it beneath you to speak to me?" he jeered.

Her mind twisted in loathing at his attempts to goad her. She had faced many of his kind in the interrogation room and on the crime-ridden streets of the city.

"I must say you got the better end of the deal," he tried once more.

"Deal?" her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, you know, warm, comfortable car, engaging company." He swept his arm around the interior of the car, resting his hand on his chest in feigned sincerity at his last words.

"I don't call this a deal." She swept her hand through the air dramatically. "I call this kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, we're merely taking a little ride, getting to know each other."

"I already know you," she said pointedly.

"Oh really?"

He made pretence of stretching his arms and adjusting his coat sleeves before turning to her, laying one arm along the back of the seat his face inches from hers.

"Well then we can dispense with the formalities 'cause I know you too….. Lindsay."

He trailed a finger along her collar bone stopping at the medallion around her neck.

Even though shivers of revulsion threatened to overtake her body, she willed herself to stay calm. What little advantage she had against this lecherous piece of scum would be lost if she allowed herself to cave into her fears.

He casually flipped the medallion over. "I see you have a Caitlin Messer original."

As much as Lindsay had been reviled by his touch upon her skin, it sickened her more to have him touching her only link to Danny. Her eyes flashed and she pulled back causing the medallion to drop from his hand.

"Don't be so high and mighty. I have one too."

He tugged on a chain lying beneath his shirt revealing a medallion similar to the one that had been found on Geno Licciardello. Even though she couldn't discern all the details, she assumed it was the Roselli family coat of arms.

"I have to admit that Irish bitch has a way with gold," he said admiringly as he stared at her medallion.

Lindsay's investigative instincts kicked in as she felt him loosening up a bit. "So do you know a lot of families who have these types of medallions?"

He didn't seem to hear her as he continued on his own train of thought. "We all thought old man Messer fucked up when he married her instead of one of his own." He paused but Lindsay's brain did a mental high five at his next statement. "But it got him into all the loaded families up and down the Eastern Seaboard."

He looked straight into her eyes, his gleaming in cavernous greed. "Do you know what kind of deals a businessman like myself can make with contacts and revenue like that at my disposal?"

--------------------------------------------------

"Hold the light a little lower," Joe grunted as he squatted in front of a built in credenza in the storage room that once was the office of the drycleaners. "I think… I got it." Joe grunted once more as he removed the back paneling of the credenza revealing a small safe built into the brick wall.

Danny squatted, squinting into the credenza. "Has that always been there?"

"Since the day I had this building built. Back then banks weren't open the late hours they are now and people tended to pay in cash so I needed some place safe for each day's receipts."

Joe stretched his fingers and let out a slow breath, "Now if I can recall the combination."

"What do you mean _recall the combination_?" Danny muttered nervously running a hand over his forehead.

Joe looked Danny squarely in the eyes. "I haven't used this safe in over ten years. Give me a minute."

"Well who else knows the combination besides you?" Danny demanded in barely restrained alarm, training the flashlight on Joe's face.

Joe grimaced as he pushed the flashlight back to shine on the safe. "Geno… and Tony."

_Fuck, Geno's dead and Tony…_ "You mean Tony Biondi, your manager?" Danny's mind started working furiously. "Well, if you can't remember the combination, then we can call him."

"Doubt he'd give it up." Joe muttered as he started turning the dial.

"What do mean _you doubt he'd give it up?_" Danny asked suspiciously, as his mind struggled to put the pieces together.

_Click!_

There couldn't have been a sweeter sound to Danny's ears at that moment as he dropped to his knees to get a closer look at the contents of the safe.

"That doesn't look like something that someone would risk a lifetime behind bars for." Danny said dubiously, as Joe withdrew a black folder.

"Mio figlio, you have no idea," Joe sighed sadly as he wearily sat back against a stack of boxes, his forearms resting on his knees, examining the contents of the book.

Suddenly Danny realized how the years were catching up to _'his old man'_; the sag under the chin, the drooping eyelids thickened with age and the ever-deepening creases in his face.

"Come on Dad, let's get outta here." Danny curled a hand around Joe's upper arm ready to help him to his feet.

"Wait, check the safe. There's probably more."

Danny shone the flashlight into the safe and pulled out a canvas bag. He let out a slow whistle as he peered into it. "Now _that's_ what would make a man risk life behind bars."

They heard a shuffle of feet from the other side of the boxes and Danny quickly shouldered the bag and helped his dad up.

"Cut the chit-chat, this ain't a fuckin' tea party," the taxi driver interrupted as he came around the stack of boxes.

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**A/N3:** Whew! I really hope you like this one because these chapters are draining me! LOL!


	57. One Man Stands Alone

**A/N: **I can't seem to write a chapter without some kind of help so big thanks go out to **Peanut2lb, NotesofWimsey **and **MariaLisa. **

**Rated M** for the language. I apologize but the bad guys just love to talk that way! LOL!

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**One Man Stands Alone **

_When the battle is won _

_There stands _

_In the ring of destruction _

_A Man Alone _

_-Sally Jetson _

She rose from the couch.

He startled at her unexpected movement. "Where do ya think you're going?"

"To turn off the outside Christmas lights. It's a fire hazard to leave them on all night."

"Park it lady, ya ain't going nowhere."

She looked at him in feigned astonishment. "What's the harm in turning off some Christmas lights?"

Arguing with some half-baked female over minor details always ran him in circles so he waved a hand, "All right, go ahead."

No sooner had she returned to the couch than a knock sounded at the door.

"Who's that?"

"Well, I'll just have to see." She smoothed back her hair as if preparing to receive the Queen of England herself.

He clamped a pudgy hand around her wrist.

She looked at him, with a slightly beguiling smile, as if he were seven years old. Memories of his first grade teacher, Sister Angelina, who had had such a smile and red hair as well flashed into his mind. And he felt his lips begin to tug upward.

"At this time of night if I don't answer, whoever it is will wonder, maybe even get suspicious and call the police. We have a very active Neighborhood Watch group here. They really are effective. Do you have one in your neighborhood Mr…uh…? I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

She lifted her eyebrows.

Another knock, this one more insistent. He caught himself and tried to save some face.

"Jesus lady, just shut up and answer the door! But I'm warning ya, no funny stuff 'cause I'll be right there beside ya."

She leaned into the gap between the door and the frame. "Oh, Agent Feldman, did you and Agent Reese enjoy the Christmas dinner?"

_Christmas dinner. _His stomach rumbled in longing

"Yes, we did. It was very thoughtful of you. We saw your lights go off and…"

"Aye, I have a headache and the lights were bothering me, so I am going to take an aspirin and rest here on the couch."

_She sure is friendly with the Feds. _

"Okay then Mrs. Messer, we'll keep an eye on things for you."

She closed the door and clicked her tongue. "They're such nice men and having to work on Christmas night no less… what a shame!"

He could swear there was a gentle, reproving look on her face but he couldn't be sure given the dimness of the room. _Either this woman was the most clueless broad in the world or…. _He hastily pushed the thought aside and gave himself a mental shake. Nicky would wash his hands of him if he messed up this job.

"All right, just plant it back on the couch, Sister Mercy!"

----------------------------------

"Here Dad, take my jacket you're freezing your ass off!" Danny shifted the canvas bag from shoulder to shoulder as he shrugged out of his jacket.

"Danny, I'm fine," Joe puffed a visible cloud of air and then blew into fisted hands as his arm tightened against his body hanging on to the black folder he had lodged there.

"C'mon Dad, Let me help you out for once, okay?"

"Siete un buon uomo, il mio figlio," Joe murmured as he took the jacket from Danny and slipped it on.

"Thanks, Dad," The words slipped out just ahead of the lump rising in his throat as he quickly brushed a clearing hand over his eyes.

The beam of the flashlight cut a weak path through the night as they made their way over the wooden dock that creaked from years of neglect. Halting at the 24 foot cabin cruiser moored at the end, Danny skimmed the flashlight over the hull, pausing at the lettering on the bow.

"Huh! Nicky Roselli thinks he's hot shit. Would you get a load of this…The Black Rose."

"Danny." Lindsay appeared from below deck.

"Lindsay, are you all right?" His voice was laced with concern and relief as he grabbed the railing, hoisting himself abroad eager to assure himself that she was indeed all right.

"Nice and easy, Messer. Keep both hands where I can see 'em. You too, old man, get up here."

Nicky waved a gun at them as he emerged from behind Lindsay.

"Lindsay, are you okay? He didn't hurt you in any way, did he?" Danny was desperate to know. She looked okay but in the dark it was hard to tell. He reached for her but Nicky grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her back.

He heard an involuntary, "Ow," and then, "Danny, I'm fine." Her voice was thin but determined and he noticed that she kept her hands behind her which meant they were probably restrained.

"Touching, Messer, I've got the world's tiniest violin playing right here," Nicky mockingly rubbed a thumb and forefinger together, "But I don't have time for this."

Danny felt his frayed nerves begin to unravel at Nicky's mocking and Lindsay's discomfort.

Nicky focused his stare on Joe. "Hand it over old man." Joe held the folder out to Nicky but held fast to it when he grasped it.

"Nicky, let's work this out. Let Danny and Lindsay go. Take me. I'll help you get in with the clientele."

"Take you? Take you?… you're worthless to me now," he sneered. "I got everything I need from you right here." He gave the folder a vicious tug and Joe released it. He dropped it onto the captain's chair next to him.

"You'll never get in… these people don't know you. You have to gain their trust, build a relationship." Joe retorted disdainfully. "You are nothing to them, Nicky, nothing at all."

"Just- one- big- nothing." Joe curved his fingers against his thumb making the zero sign.

"Shut the fuck up, old man!"

Nicky pressed the gun against Joe's forehead.

"Hey, Nicky, I've got your bag. What do ya want me to do with it?" Danny said trying to diffuse the situation.

"I can see that Messer knows how to play the game… isn't that right Messer?" Nicky countered, lowering his gun but never removing his eyes from Joe.

"Sure, sure, Nicky, I know how to play the game." Danny replied in a placatory tone.

"You know what's in that bag? That's my seed money. That snitch Geno thought it was to be his for getting me this little black book… but I had plans to off him all along and when I found out he was working with the Feds… well that made it all the sweeter to waste him."

"You murdered an innocent, family man? You disgust me, Nicky. If your father were alive…"

"If my father were alive, he'd have taken you out long ago after the way you dumped my sister, Sophia for that Irish bitch." Nicky paused for effect. "But in the end you came in handy."

"What do you mean?" Joe's voice was composed, but Danny recognized that hint of steel.

"That night you left Geno at the shop going over the books so you could take your Irish bitch to Midnight Mass, you took Geno's car."

Danny stepped closer and placed a steadying hand on Joe's shoulder when he swayed slightly.

"That's right, the dead battery in your car… planted… and the Feds followed you that night thinking you were Geno. But by the time they realized their mistake, we had him. Bye, bye Geno," Nicky crooned as he kissed his fingers and flicked them in the air.

"Why you son-of-a-bitch!" Joe lunged but Danny yanked him back.

"Ain't worth it, Dad. Just leave the piece of scum alone. He'll get what's coming to him."

"You know what, old man? I can't wait to waste you. And when I toss your body out to sea on my way to Mexico, the sharks will make quick work of it."

"That'll get you life, Nicky." Danny warned, in an effort to stall.

"Who's gonna be around to pin it on me? Huh? Certainly not you and little Miss Science Cop here."

"As fine an ass as she's got…" Nicky craned his neck back to sweep a leeringly appreciative glance over Lindsay's backside, "She's a little too uptight for my tastes. Know what I mean, Messer?"

"'Fraid not, Nicky." Danny responded coolly, but the hand of foreboding dragged a finger down his spine.

"Come on, Messer. I 'member you used to hang with broads who knew how to party, real lookers too…"

_Fuck… I should have known this was coming…Roselli always was a first class prick. This is not what I want Lindsay to hear… hell, I don't want to hear it… relive it… the pain, the disappointment… the complete absurdity of it all. _

He stared at Lindsay, to calm himself, to reassure her, hoping she could read the emotions on his face, in spite of the darkness.

"Oh but that's right… that's before you became a washed-up ball player, a has-been…'member that Messer… 'member how you fucked up the deal of the decade with your interference… 'member how I took you down…," Nicky mocked, bitterness creeping in as he traced the scar with the barrel of his gun. "But not before you gave me this scar. I owe you Messer!"

He abruptly pointed the gun at Danny.

"That scar is your own doing Nicky. You wouldn't go to the hospital for proper treatment 'cause you knew the cops would arrest you and with a rap sheet as long as yours… something would have stuck. You're the one who fucked up."

Danny felt the traitorous heat of rage coursing through his body. He tightened his fist to try to disperse it, to not lose control, to not make the same mistake twice.

"I'm done talking. Hand over that bag now."

"Okay, Nicky, you want the bag?" Danny goaded, shifting the bag in his hands.

"Just give me the fuckin' bag… Messer."

"I'll give you the bag… Lindsay, duck!" Danny shouted a split second before he swung it into Nicky's head.

Nicky staggered, there was the crack of the gun, and two sets of hands grabbed wildly for Lindsay as she teetered. One set to save, the other to destroy. Fingertips grazed fingertips and an anguished scream pierced the night as she toppled backwards over the side of the cruiser with Nicky.

"Lindsay! Lindsay!" Danny searched and strained for any sign of Lindsay, clawing frantically around behind him for the flashlight.

"Flashlight, Dad!"

_She won't last a minute in this frigid water with her hands tied._

"Dad!" He barked his desperation.

He turned quickly and saw the dark pool of blood contrasted against the white of the deck. He dropped to his knees as Joe pressed a hand to his side and spoke with great effort.

"Go after her, Danny!"

"But…" The shock paralyzed him until…

"GO!"

He grabbed the flashlight and panned it across inky black of the water. A bob, maybe a head: it was so hard to tell even with the flashlight.

"Lindsay!"

He thought he heard a faint 'Danny' floating through the night air and dove in toward the sound. The frigid water instantly made his muscles clench but he forced his arms to slice through the water. When his hand slapped against her body, he latched onto it, pulling her close to him.

"Oh God, thank God, Lindsay, talk to me! Talk to me!"

"So cold," her teeth clattered.

"I know, just hang on and keep talking to me!"

He started kicking towards the back of the cruiser, heartening himself by frantically muttering…

"God, don't let me lose her… don't let me lose her… I can't lose…"

He was so numb the only movement he could feel were the teeth rattling in his head.

"Lindsay, say something. Are ya still with me?"

No response.

His muscles were near the shattering point as he hoisted Lindsay onto the back platform and dragged himself up next to her, feeling no warmer out of the water as a blast of northerly air hit his drenched clothes. Cradling her, he stumbled below deck, untied her hands, stripped her of the sopping clothes and looked wildly about the cabin for anything to wrap her in. Suddenly a hand held a blanket out to him. He glanced quickly at the ashen face of his dad.

"Fuckin' A, Dad, you look like shit!"

"As eloquent as your nona, mio figlio." Joe grimaced and dropped onto the cushions, clutching a bright orange and yellow beach towel to his side.

"Dad, I'm sorry… we'll get you some help too." Danny reassured as he wrapped Lindsay in the blanket.

"I'm okay… son-of-a-!" Joe grunted as he shifted his weight, "... as long as I don't do that." Joe finally settled and leaned back, closing his eyes.

_Not good, Messer, not good! You're the only viable act in this 3 ring circus right now. _

Danny desperately wanted to begin chaffing Lindsay's body through the thickness of the blanket if only to quell some of the panic steadily infiltrating his emotions and threatening to become the master of his actions. But he remembered, from the required first aid course he had taken at the police academy, that chaffing of a hypothermia victim was not recommended.

_Think Messer Think! What else, what else? _

He cursed himself for not paying more attention during class! The ghostly pallor of her skin and blue-tinged lips were alarmingly reminiscent of the hundreds of bodies in the morgue he had the misfortune to view. Her breathing was shallow and her pulse was weak. With her scant body weight and the rapid loss of body heat in water he knew her body temperature must have dropped in the frigid water.

"Linds, can you hear me? Wake up… you gotta open your eyes so I'll know you're still with me. 'Member what I told ya… about my world and how I love you…"

_Help, help, gotta get help! _

He could feel the lump of despair stealing its way up from the pit of his stomach into his throat, blocking his breath. He had never felt more helpless in his life than at this moment.

----------------------------------

Caitlin eyed the disheveled, chunky man starting to nod off. His hand loosened around the gun and she wondered if she could slip it out of his twitching fingers before he had a chance to react.

Not daring to scoot any closer, she reached her hand out towards the sleek, metal object winking mockingly at her in the lamplight.

Abruptly his body jerked and he gave a horrible snort, unfortunately gripping the gun tighter during the disturbance.

_How am I supposed to get him to release it now? _

Smacking his lips contentedly, he turned into the couch folding his arms and legs into a more fetal position, hugging the gun to his chest as if it were a much-loved teddy bear.

_He's hugging that gun the way Danny used to hug that summer league championship baseball bat when he slept with it. _

She smiled as she recalled how she used to spirit the bat away from Danny once he was asleep She used to tickle him right there…. under his chin…. right there she thought as she squiggled her index finger along the chin folds of the man now sleeping on her couch. He stirred but held fast to the gun. She bit her lip and fluttered her fingertips across his cheek and nose. He merely swatted at his face with his empty hand.

Frustration seized her. _You_ _stubborn old criminal. Take that!_ She blew a puff of air into his face in complete aggravation and the gun thumped onto the soft cushions of the couch.

She carefully gripped it, keeping the barrel pointed at the sleeping form while she elevated herself from the couch with her other hand.

Whoosh!

She whirled around toward the sound. Light blinded her momentarily as a familiar voice called out to her.

"Mrs. Messer, it's Agent Feldman. I'll take that before you shoot somebody that you don't intend to."

"Oh thank God," she murmured as she crossed herself and her legs gave way.

Strong arms caught her and helped her to the couch. She looked around and Agent Reese was cuffing her captor as he sleepily tried to make sense of the situation.

"It took you long enough," she grumbled. "I was beginning to think I had given you the wrong signal."

Agent Feldman smiled gently at her.

"No, you gave the right signal. We were waiting on backup and then we got the go ahead to proceed without backup. Turns out they needed the backup at another more precarious situation."

"Oh," she nodded barely able to register what he was saying. She was drowning in all the worries, questions and anxieties swimming through her mind.

"Mrs. Messer, I need to take you to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine," she replied distractedly shaking her head. "Really, I don't need a hospital. I need to know where…"

"Yes, I know. I'm going to take you to the hospital now,"

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**A/N:** Whew I'm glad that's over! Now we'll be moving away from the bad guys and back to some D/L intimate moments within the next chapter or two. D/L intimacy is my guilty pleasure!


	58. Be Careful What You Wish For

**A/N: **Big thanks to MariaLisa for her beta, support and encouragement. Big thanks to **Peanut2lb **for her honest reaction. Thanks, y'all are the best.

**Rated M** for the language again. sigh

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Be Careful What You Wish For **

_**Sometimes in hours of pain and grief, **_

_**We wish for things that can never be. **_

_**-Sally Jetson **_

Why was her skin tingling as if a thousand needles were pricking her from head to toe? And her head… pounding… her throat so dry…. thirsty… so thirsty. She fought to drag open eyelids only to have them to snap shut again when her pupils encountered the bright light.

"Ow," she moaned softly.

A hand stroking her hair; another gently squeezing her hand; a foul smell infiltrating her senses.

"Danny?" her voice barely registering in her own ears.

"Hey Montana, feeling rested after that little cat nap?" His words were playful but underneath… underneath… she could hear it… tension, worry and… undeniable relief.

"Hurts… the light..."

The chair scraped across the floor and then comforting, enveloping darkness. With gratefulness she forced open leaden eyelids.

He switched on a small lamp as he sat on the bed beside her, reaching for her hand, clasping it with both of his, placing a gentle kiss on each finger.

He looked horrible; eyes red-rimmed and weary, hair spiking every which way, clothes dank and reeking of… of… fishy seawater.

"Oh my God… Danny…"

It came rushing back… like a blow… or a thrown bag that she hadn't been quick enough to duck.

"I remember…I was so…" her voice breaking before she could finish.

"Linds, it's all over… let's not talk about it now. You came out okay. I came out okay…"

His voice trailed off and he bowed his head pressing it against their intertwined hands, seemingly lost in thought… or prayer.

"Danny, what is it? What's happened?" Her voice cracked in panic at the thought of the worst possible scenario.

A shaft of light cut across her face forcing her to turn her head to avoid the pain it caused in her eyes.

"Danny, are you and Lindsay okay?" Caitlin's near frantic voice reached her ears.

"Ma, yeah we're… we're okay."

Lindsay's heart ached when she heard his tattered and teetering emotions finally emerging in his voice.

She turned and opened her eyes again after the door was gently closed, extinguishing the offending light. The weight on the bed shifted as Caitlin wrapped Danny into a fierce mama bear hug. She looked, but couldn't see beyond Caitlin and Danny to see who had shut the door.

"Ma…I couldn't…" His voice finally broke as she soothed a hand along the back of his head, his arms tightening around her slender waist, his words muffled against her neck. "Maybe I reacted too rashly but it was the only way out I could see."

"Danny," she lifted his face from her shoulder, hands flanking it as she stared into his eyes, her own soft and misty. "He has a fighting chance. That's what the surgeon said. We'll have to wait until they finish the procedure but…we'll pray for the best."

He pressed the back of his arm to his eyes, nodding mutely.

"Now you must get out of these clothes before you come down with something."

"Ma, I can't leave Lindsay. She just came to."

"Danny, you reek, go change." Caitlin's firm voice was bridging no argument. "I'll sit with Lindsay until you return."

"C'mon Danny. I agree with your ma, you smell like someone whose been working on the fish docks and that isn't a compliment."

"Uncle Sal!" Danny's voice brightened slightly in relief as the older man embraced him firmly in spite of his ripe state.

"Thanks for being here with Ma."

"Think nothing of it." Uncle Sal reassured in his thick but melodic accent.

"The attending physician said he had an extra change of clothes in his locker that you could wear." Caitlin encouraged.

"Linds?" He looked at her questioningly

Waving her hand to urge him on, she replied in a scratchy voice, "Go… and grab a shower if you can."

He swept a gentle kiss across her forehead and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "I'll be back ASAP."

----------------------------------------

Fresh from a shower and in clean clothes, Danny sat down on the bench next to Uncle Sal mimicking his pose, legs spread, forearms resting on thighs, bending forward in contemplation.

"Got you a cup of coffee."

"Thanks." Danny took a grateful gulp folding his fingers around the warmth of the cup. He wasn't sure how many hours he'd been awake now. He only knew it was sometime in the wee hours of the morning, creeping up on dawn.

"Danny, Joe is tough. He'll weather this."

"I hope so Uncle Sal, but… I should have handled it better, that gun shouldn't have gone off…Dad shouldn't have…"

"Danny that's three shoulds too many… I trust that you did the best you could under the circumstances."

Danny shook his head in vehement disagreement, gripping the Styrofoam cup as tightly as he could without crushing it.

"Nah… if I had just held on to it a little longer…"

"Danny, if you had held onto it a little longer, one of you, if not all of you, could have been killed."

"You know the irony of it all?" He focused weary, blue eyes on comforting, dark ones. "I went into this praying to God that I wouldn't lose Lindsay and I came out realizing I didn't want to lose him as well."

He set the coffee cup down on the bench beside him and leaned back. He agitatedly thrust his palms up over his face and around to the back of his neck interlacing his fingers.

"All those years… not understanding him… not connecting with him… in fact, wishing most of the time… wishing you were my dad."

Danny dropped his head in self-disgust at his admission, ashamed of himself for having those thoughts.

Uncle Sal sighed heavily, shifting his weight upright, and laid a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Danny I know you and Joe haven't always seen eye to eye but he's…," Danny dropped his hands and stared at Uncle Sal as he uncharacteristically struggled with his words.

"He's always loved you… even if he didn't always show it. He did right by you. He's a good man."

Uncle Sal suddenly looked away and took another swallow of coffee while Danny continued to stare at him. A flicker of pained recollection crossed his face.

"Christ! Siete un buon uomo, il mio figlio." Danny murmured.

"What?"

"That is what he said to me when I insisted that he wear my coat right before we boarded the cruiser."

"It's true, Danny." Uncle Sal's eyes were full of pain and something else he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"I don't feel like a good man." Danny forced out a shaky breath full of self-loathing, his voice rising in frustration, "I feel like a fuckin' failure that nearly got two people killed… and for what… just because Nicky Roselli got to me again?"

Uncle Sal palmed the back of Danny's neck giving him a sobering shake.

"Danny, don't do this to yourself… don't go down that road again. You'll be no good to Joe, your ma or Lindsay if you do."

-----------------------------------

"Caitlin, I'm so sorry about Joe. Danny really did the best he could under the circumstances." Lindsay croaked as Caitlin settled in the chair beside the bed, grasping Lindsay's hand.

"It's…" Caitlin took a deep breath, tears pooling in her eyes. "it's not Danny's fault… never has been. He's just been the misfortunate pawn in the midst of all this. Nicky Roselli has been a thorn in Joe's side even before I met Joe."

Lindsay sensed that Caitlin needed to unburden herself.

"Nicky mentioned something about his sister Sophia and Joe," she gently prodded.

"Aye, Nicky's mother died when he was very young and Sophia was much older, so she, on all counts, raised him. He adored her and when… when… Joe broke up with her I think she was devastated but that was right before Joe and I met so…" She ran a hand through her hair as she continued. "I'm very fuzzy on the details. Joe's never really discussed it with me."

"And?" Lindsay's sixth sense discerned more to the story.

The tears began to spill one by one onto Caitlin's cheeks as she stared at a point somewhere beyond Lindsay's head.

"She committed suicide on the day that we were married."

"How tragic, I'm so sorry." Lindsay caught Caitlin's pained eyes with her own sending a silent message of empathy as the shock momentarily blocked any comforting words.

"It's all in the past; I just wished Nicky could see it that way. He really did a number on Danny all those years ago and now I'm..."

Lindsay squeezed Caitlin's hand conveying her shared support for the man that they both held dear to their hearts.

"I'm hoping that Salvatore can help Danny keep his wits about him… not blame himself for what happened to Joe." Caitlin's voice turned inexplicably wistful. "Salvatore has always had a way with Danny… he's always been there for him… he's…" Caitlin pressed her hand across her eyes and took a deep, tremulous breath.

"What is it, Caitlin? Is there anything that I can help you with?" Lindsay offered in soothing support.

Caitlin looked up suddenly, her face stricken with grief and pain.

"Promise me Lindsay, that whatever happens that you'll be there for Danny… please… I can't bear to lose another son."

Her head spun and her breath quickened as she sat up in bed and embraced Caitlin.

"Don't worry… I will… I love him as much as you do. Nothing will ever keep me away from him," she promised, as she tightened her arms around Caitlin's trembling shoulders.

-----------------------------------

"I must say Montana, green suits you," Danny teased softly as they walked towards the surgery waiting area.

The attending physician had cleared Lindsay to be released and they had received word that Joe had come through the surgery and was in recovery.

"You're just saying that 'cause I'm not wearing anything underneath." She fully appreciated his need to lighten the mood now they knew that Joe was out of the woods.

"Now you're just teasin' me Montana, and that ain't fair."

He slid his arm around her and let it ride low on her waist. Her smile deepened.

"No, I'll tell you what's not fair, Cowboy. It's that you get to wear regular clothes while I have to walk around the hospital totally naked underneath these paper-thin hospital scrubs."

"Can I help it if there was an attending physician my size with extra clothes in his locker?" Danny mocked innocently, his grin splitting his face from ear to ear as he gazed down at her.

The pink bloom had finally returned to her cheeks and her hair curled wildly about her face as it dried from the cleansing shower she had emerged from just moments ago.

_It had been agonizing sitting on that same bench that he and Uncle Sal had shared earlier waiting for her to emerge from the shower, feeling guilty as hell that he was imagining the water cascading over her sensuous curves instead of how his dad was faring in recovery. _

_Messer sometimes you're just a guy and sometimes not a very good one at that, he had taunted himself. _

_His thoughts had sharply returned to Nicky Roselli and the events of the past several hours. His fists had involuntarily clenched, and his heart raced, as the heat of hatred swept through his body. He had to force himself to take deep, calming breaths. _

_Uncle Sal was right. He couldn't let this business with Nicky do a number on his head. They'd all come through it okay. _

She slipped her warm, comforting hand into his, tugging, and he dropped into a chair beside her. He glanced around as he heard murmuring voices but didn't see any other people in the waiting room. It had been strategically planned; well placed dividers topped with fresh greenery gave privacy to worried and anxious people as they waited for news on the outcome of the surgery on their loved ones.

He leaned his head back, content to let the white haze of murmurings lull him. With Lindsay resting her head on his shoulder, her reassuring scent surrounding him and her breath beginning to deepen; he began to slip into a peaceful slumber himself… until…

distinct murmurings filtered over the greenery…

_"I'm so worried…." A soft, lilting voice began. _

testing his consciousness.

_"He came through it okay." a deeper more exotic voice reassured. _

The voices were so full of anxiety and pain…

_"I don't know if I can do this again. It was hard enough last time." _

and so familiar.

_"I'll make you the same promise now that I made you years ago when that gypsy cab driver almost took out him and Danny. I'll take care of you if anything happens to him. I swear." _

Why were they discussing him as if…

_"I can't ask you to do that. With Louie's medical bills we are strapped. I can't ask you to take on the responsibility." _

he wasn't there?

_"But you agreed to it last time, why not now?" _

He knew the voices but…

_"You know why Salvatore..." _

they didn't realize he was there.

_"Why? Because Louie is not mine, but Danny is? You know that doesn't matter to me, I've always cared about you." _

The cold water of comprehension hit his mind as the fury burned in his gut, twisting the knife of deception deep in his heart. Jumping to his feet, he jolted Lindsay from her deep sleep, oblivious to her shock and surprise.

"Danny, what's going on?"

"You bastard" he snarled though clenched teeth as he barreled around the divider, fist raised ready to deliver a blow to angled jaw.

Uncle Sal, though surprised, leapt to his feet gripping Danny's wrist securely, before it had a chance to make impact.

"Danny, calm down!"

"You fuckin' bastard, you have no right to tell me what to do."

"Danny, I know it's a shock but Salvatore's right" Caitlin was on her feet reaching a trembling hand toward Danny.

Danny wrenched his wrist from Uncle Sal's grip and stepped back quickly out of her reach.

"You, why didn't you tell me? Why did you just let me believe… all those fuckin' awful years with… Dad," Danny choked on the last word.

"Danny, I'm sorry," Caitlin pleaded softly, her eyes begging for understanding, "But this wasn't just about you. There was your Aunt Teresa and your cousin, Michael to consider."

"Aunt Teresa, Dad's sister." Danny's eyes narrowed. "How could you do that to her, Ma? And Michael….," his voice fractured in anguish as he gritted out each word. "He wasn't my cousin, Ma. He- was- my- brother! All those years…_wishing_."

"Danny, I had to do what was best for everyone at the time."

"Oh, that's rich Ma! Is that what you were thinking when you spread your legs for _him_?

He shot Uncle Sal a withering glance. Uncle Sal's dark eyes flickered in pain but he met Danny's gaze unflinchingly as he stated quietly but firmly, "It wasn't like that, Danny."

Danny ignored him as his face twisted in disgust towards Caitlin.

"How many times Ma? I bet it was my whole fuckin' life wasn't it, Ma? You never loved Dad. He's just a paycheck to you isn't he? No wonder he works all the fuckin' time."

Danny's head jerked to the right as Caitlin's hand made a resounding strike against his cheek.

"Don't- you- ever- say- that- I- don't- love- your- father!" Caitlin spat out, her chest heaving, the blue of her eyes deepened by the storm raging inside her.

Danny trained his eyes on the floor, his jaw working furiously.

Her voice softened. "Danny, have you ever reacted in the heat of the moment and made a mistake?"

Caitlin stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his upper arm. "Has it messed up your life so badly you thought you weren't going to be able to piece it all together again? But then you had someone there to help you pick up the pieces, make sense of it and go on?"

"I know you remember that, Danny."

He nodded slightly then looked up at her, his eyes red and rimmed with tears, his face contorted in pain and loathing.

Sucking in a deep breath he replied evenly, "I remember…"

A quivering smile began to spread along Caitlin's face.

But his voice contained the calm before the storm as he spoke, "But that person isn't who I thought she was, in fact, I don't think she ever existed."

He shrugged off her hand and glared at her until she took a step back.

"Danny, don't do this." Her face began to crumple. Salvatore placed steadying hands on her shoulders.

"You've already done it, Ma."

He stared at Uncle Sal in disgust, before turning and striding down the hall, ferociously pushing both hospital doors open as he disappeared into the pre-dawn light.

Lindsay stood rooted in shock.

It only took a moment for Caitlin to spring into action. Wiping tears from her eyes, she approached Lindsay and firmly clasped her hands.

"Lindsay, remember what I said about being there for Danny?" Caitlin's voice came out in an agonizing whisper, raw and pained.

Lindsay forced dry air down her scratchy throat as she nodded at Caitlin.

"Please, take care of him. Until he calms down and works through this you're all he has to turn to."

Lindsay mentally shook off her shock but it was more than a few seconds before she could manipulate her mouth to move. Finally she squeezed Caitlin's hands. "Don't worry. I promise I'll be there for him."

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**A/N:** I know I promised D/L hot and it is coming in the next chapter, I swear. It is already written and out for beta'ing. SJ


	59. Can Love Conquer All?

**A/N: **Tremendous thanks to **MariaLisa** for coherency and flow control and just general hand holding. Lots of love!

**Rated M** for language and some bodily contact.

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Can Love Conquer All? **

_**Love perceived **_

_**Neither bought nor sold **_

_**Only given and received **_

_**Yet solidly denied **_

_**-Sally Jetson **_

She threw back two Advil and gulped from a bottle of ice cold water but she knew that it wouldn't dull the throb lurking behind her eyes and gripping the back of her neck. She was only going through the motions in an attempt to calm herself. She was completely drained from the events of the past twenty-four hours, from lack of sleep and from frantic worrying.

_Where is he? _

She hadn't seen nor heard from him since he had stormed out of the hospital over five hours ago. Their cell phones had not been recovered so she had no way to reach him and no chance of finding him in a city that he knew a thousand times better than she. She had called everyone she could think of and subtly inquired after him without revealing the turmoil that had occurred. She felt that it was his prerogative to disclose whatever he saw fit, whenever and if ever. She had gleaned from Mac that he had called in sick. At least he had had one moment of lucidity.

_Why hasn't called just to let me know he is okay? _

She had done everything she possibly could do to keep busy: paid bills, halted mail and paper delivery, checked and rechecked tickets, packed her suitcase determined to leave tomorrow as scheduled then had unpacked determined to stay and then repacked again. There was nothing else to do but worry. Tears of frustration filled her eyes as she threw herself on the bed.

Suddenly she heard the locks turning. She quickly scrubbed the tears from her eyes and ran into the living room. He looked exhausted as he tossed the keys onto the side table, staring at them for a moment, hands on hips. He let out a long sigh as he turned and saw her.

Her heart wrenched in agony for him. He looked ten times worse than when she had first seen him in the hospital.

With a grim tone he said, "Hell of a day, huh Montana?"

She could only nod; her relief at seeing him had sapped her words.

Then his face twisted in disgust and there was a disparaging tone in his voice, "Bet you can't wait to get rid of me now." He focused his eyes downward.

The sheer terror of the past twenty-four hours, the anxiety over Joe's surgery, Caitlin's upsetting confession and not knowing where he had been for the past several hours when she needed him as much as she knew he needed her had robbed her of her typical rationality and compassion and suddenly she snapped. The emotions quickly spiraled from relief at seeing him, to disbelief over his seeming disregard for what she had been going through, and to anger that he had just tossed this hot potato into her lap. Well she was going to toss it right back; because although she might be willing to work it through with him, she was not willing to give him an easy way out nor sink into his dismal, doomsday mood.

Her anger was burning red-hot but she managed to channel it into a quiet blue burn.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"What?"

His head jerked up and total surprise registered on his face.

"If you think I'm ready to dump you then what are you doing here?" She punctuated each word like annoying kicks to the shins.

She could see the anguish, confusion burning in his eyes as she took a measured step toward him.

"Maybe I _should_ dump you!" she declared.

"Lindsay!" Clearly this was not what he'd been expecting to hear from her.

Finally blue burn gave way to red-hot wrath.

"Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I've been about you? I get that you may need some time and space but you could have at least called to let me know you were okay."

He nervously licked his lips visibly struggling for words.

"Walking, just walking… I didn't think about calling… I just…"

She cut him off abruptly.

"But somehow you thought to call in sick."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if concentrating on something he couldn't quite fathom.

He sliced a hand through air as he spat out, "Christ Lindsay I've just had the worst fucking twenty-four hours of my life."

Through clenched teeth that only intensified the throbbing already hammering in her body she ground out, "I know, Danny. I was there or has that slipped your mind as well."

"What's up with you, Lindsay?"

"I want you to be honest with me Danny, Why did you come back here? You know I'm leaving for Montana tomorrow. If you were so certain I was going to dump you, why didn't you just let me go without bothering with all the messy details of an ugly breakup?"

"I… I… don't know, Lindsay."

"Danny, don't set up a self-fulfilling prophecy for yourself… tell me why you came back here or leave without another word."

He saw the rigid stance of her body, the seething in her eyes and he knew it was all on the line. The truth. He had to tell her the truth or she would be finished with him. He took a deep breath bracing himself, preparing to bare his soul to her. He had never felt so vulnerable in all of his life.

His voice cracked as pangs of need tumbled out with the words. "Lindsay, I came back because I love you and I am praying to God that you're gonna stand by me."

She flew into his arms burying her face into his neck as he crushed her to him pressing fervent kisses into her hair.

"Danny, I love you so much. I was praying that you'd come back… that you wouldn't let this eat you alive."

"It's killing me, Lindsay. I don't know how I'm gonna get through it."

Her hands were flanking his face, stroking the raw stubble with her thumbs, fastening her reassuring eyes onto his feverish ones.

"I know, I know, just one step at a time, okay?"

He removed his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to stay the tears.

"But I don't even know where to start."

"We're too tired to tackle this now. C'mon" she soothed as she tugged him toward the bedroom. Halting beside the bed she pulled his shirt up and he obligingly raised his arms, finishing the task for her as she unbuckled and unzipped his jeans letting them drop to the floor.

"Get your shoes off," she directed as she pushed him down on the bed and left him to pull the shades to block the glaring daylight.

When she came back around to the side of the bed he was sitting on he cinched an arm around her waist pulling her close.

"You need sleep, Cowboy," she declared, bracing her palms against his chest to keep some distance between them.

His eyes were somber and she could see the pain etched into his face as he slid a hand up under her kimono to cup the bare, firm roundness underneath.

"I need you, Lindsay." he rasped out.

Eyes locked. His other hand joined the first as he slid them up her bare back until the soft sash loosened and he was able to usher the kimono off her shoulders. The throb in her head and neck were obliterated by the one now pulsing deep in her abdomen. Even though he was looking up at her, he was eye level with her breasts and her nipples grew tauter with each warm exhale of his breath. When her knees were on the verge of buckling, her hands glided over his shoulders settling at the back of his neck her fingers weaving her fingers through his short, spiky hair.

He held her gaze and she wasn't sure what he was waiting for until he spoke, his voice hoarse and vulnerable.

"Lindsay I have to know."

"What?" the word barely registering as an audible sound.

"Do you need me as much as I need you?"

"More Danny… I need you so much that it scares me."

In one fluid movement he tightened an arm around her waist and swept her onto the bed encompassing her suppleness with his solidness. Hands roamed feverishly, caressing, stroking, tantalizing. Mouths urgently joined and parted, tasted and teased, asserted and expressed. In mere moments he was filling her fast and furious, she keeping pace, her need rising as quickly as his, the paralyzing strands of tension from the past twenty-four hours finally unraveling. They toppled almost simultaneously and collapsed in a tangled heap, every remaining ounce of energy expended as they both tumbled into a deep sleep.

---------------------------------

The tantalizing aroma began to lure him out of his deep sleep.

_A beer and a slice. What more could a guy want from life? Well except one particular country girl with soft, brown eyes and a warm smile. _

Subconsciously he reached out to wrap an arm around that country girl but found the bed empty. He flopped onto his back rubbing his eyes trying to figure out what time it was. Attempting to decipher the digits on Lindsay's clock would be next to impossible without his glasses. He pawed around on the nightstand until he found them. A glance at the clock told him it was well after midnight. His stomach rumbled and as if on cue Lindsay appeared in the bedroom with a pizza box, a bottle of beer and a bottle of water.

"I didn't figure you'd sleep much longer once you smelled the pie, Messer."

"Pizza in bed, Montana? This must be a special occasion."

She smiled that warm smile of hers as she handed him the beer and the box.

"It's easier to talk on a full stomach," she quipped as she adjusted the pillows.

"You got something you want to get off your chest, Montana?" he retorted between mouthfuls of pizza, quirking his eyebrows inquiringly at her.

"No, I'm good… but you on the other hand…"

She shot him a meaningful look as she delicately took her first bite of pizza. He had already polished off his first slice and deliberately ignored her last comment as he pulled another slice from the box.

Within minutes they had demolished all but one slice of pizza.

"You want that last slice?"

"No, it's yours."

"Do want another beer?" He nodded, drained the beer in his hand and handed the bottle to her as she picked up the pizza box.

When she returned she handed him the beer and curled up next to him laying her head on his chest as his arm encircled her.

"What time do you fly out?"

"8:00 am"

"That doesn't leave us much time does it?"

She grinned up at him.

He dropped a swift kiss on her lips.

"I could think of more entertaining ways of spending these last hours together than talking."

He eyed her suggestively as he bobbed his head, gulping a swallow of beer.

"Maybe we can work something out if you talk fast, Cowboy."

Her smile was sweet but her eyes were serious.

He removed his arm from around her and she sat up, ready to listen. He agitatedly rolled the bottle back and forth between the palms of his hands.

"There isn't much to say… FBI didn't recover Nicky's body. I'm assuming he's dead but that's not a given. Tony Venetti, Dad's… I mean…Joe's… fuck it…. I don't know what I mean." Tenuous calmness gave way to pure frustration.

He abruptly clambered out of the bed, strode over to the window raised the shade and leaned his forehead against the cool pane of the window. The street was too quiet to provide a distraction from the turmoil building inside his head.

She padded over to him and slid her arms around his waist laying her cheek against his back. She felt the muscles ripple as he raised his arm to take another swallow of beer. She would miss his slightly spicy, masculine scent, his outrageous smirk, the way he growled her name when he was filled with desire for her, the way he made her forget everything else in the world so she could feel safe, secure and loved. She wasn't sure how she was going to fight her own demons without him by her side.

As if reading her thoughts he suddenly blurted out.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this with you leaving for Montana."

"Just like I'm going to do it… one step at a time," she murmured against his back.

He turned in her arms pushing a hand through her loose curls, cradling the back of her head. She let out a quivering sigh twining a finger through the hairs on his chest.

"Where did you come up with that plan?"

She looked up at him as she replied steadily.

"Your ma."

He dropped his hand to turn away but she stayed him with gentle hands on his biceps.

"I can't talk about this, Lindsay." He turned his face away staring at the wall putting the beer bottle to his lips and draining it.

"Can't or won't? You're going to let your perception of the situation overshadow a lifetime of love and support? Where would you be if she had taken that attitude with you?"

She watched as he struggled with the last swallow of beer and then she felt his bicep clench as he unexpectedly hurled the bottle against the wall. The shatter echoed through quiet apartment followed by his angry assertion.

"It's because of her that my dad… I mean Joe… hated me. Something must have been twisting inside of him each and every time he looked at me."

"You don't know that," she replied desperate to soothe him, anxious for him to see reason. "You have to talk to her Danny. At least give her a chance to explain."

"What do you know about it huh, Lindsay?" His eyes bored into her as the tone in his voice slipped from anger to mockery, "Isn't this a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black? You can't- or won't_-_ even talk to your own mother."

She felt the scalding sting of tears rimming her eyes but she thrust out her chin in defying declaration, "That was a low blow, Danny."

"What?" He held out his hands in mock misunderstanding. "I thought we were talking things out here. Oh I get it! It's okay for us to talk about my problems but not yours."

"You bastard!"

His lips thinned and his face whitened; her hand immediately covered her mouth as her eyes widened at the unintentional implication of her words.

"Danny, I'm sorry… it's just a saying, I'm sorry."

She grabbed his arm but he shrugged it off.

"I'm outta here, Lindsay."

He strode around the bed to pick up his clothes off the floor but she scrambled over the bed and grabbed them before he could.

"Give me my clothes, Lindsay."

"No! You're not leaving like this."

He reached for her but she backed quickly off the bed, over to the window, turned, threw it open and tossed his clothes outside.

"What the f-… My wallet! You just threw a $10,000 credit limit out the window."

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**A/N:** I know this isn't the reunion that some of you were hoping for but the characters wanted to make war more than they wanted to make love. Really, I have very little control over them! SJ


	60. Wild Montana Skies and My Father’s Eyes

**A/N:** Thanks to **MariaLisa** for putting up with my temperamental sentence structure and just basic cheerleading! hugs

**Rated M:** for language... that should be my standard rating from here on out. LOL!

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Wild Montana Skies and My Father's Eyes **

_**The price of peace is in the letting go. –Sally Jetson **_

The jet circled the Gallatin Valley treating Lindsay to a sweeping view of the mountain ranges that encircled the valley like ancient and majestic guardians. As the scenery began detailing itself to her, an eerie sense of unfamiliarity caught her by surprise. Why? She wasn't sure; after all this had been her home until she moved to New York City just over two years ago.

As their descent continued, she began to familiarize herself again with the look and feel of the area. A few skiers were on the snow-capped peaks; further down the steep mountainsides ski lifts and high end homes dotted the landscape giving way to the ski villages at the base. As the land flattened into the valley, amply spaced farmsteads surrounded by perfectly squared fields ringed the town of Bozeman. Interstate 90, the main transportation corridor, pulsed through the town feeding the businesses congregating around it while homes and schools radiated outward. The campus of Montana State University, her alma mater, came into view, swarming with students scurrying around during the class break.

Then, before she realized it, the runway loomed up in front of her, hard, straight and black.

As she departed the plane she could already smell the freshness of air as it seeped through the worn seams of the jet way. Inhaling deeply, she entered the terminal searching for a familiar face.

"Lindsay girl!"

She whirled around as long arms engulfed her, crushing her to a lanky body that smelled faintly of barnyard, dirt and diesel. Unexpectedly tears sprang to her eyes at the realization of what she had been missing the most since she'd left Bozeman.

"Daddy!"

She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shirt front hoping she could smother the tears. _No such luck._

"Lindsay girl, lemme look at you." Matt Monroe held her at arm's length as glinting blue eyes took in her appearance bringing to mind another pair of blue eyes not so glinting the last time she had seen them. "You look plum wore out and your mama's gonna have a fit when she sees how thin you are." He shook his head in dismay at the scene already playing in his mind as he wiped a tear that had slipped free and started to trail down her cheek.

"C'mon, you can tell me all about fightin' the bad hombres on those crime ridden streets of New York City on the ride home."

---------------------------------------------

She slammed the door of the old Dodge pickup, once, twice, then remembered the trick. The door hinges were slightly out of whack from the time that her older brother, Kurt, had been doing donuts on the icy streets, lost control and slid sideways into a telephone pole. She lifted up slightly on the door, effectively straightening the hinges long enough to allow the door to catch when she gave it one last swing.

Matt flashed a big grin at her. "Your brother Kurt didn't always use the common sense the good lord gave him, did he?"

"No, Daddy, I guess he didn't." Lindsay quirked her eyebrows playfully at Matt as her wide smile deepened the cleft in her chin, "But at least he didn't decide to sleep with his Easter candy during that spring camping trip and wake up with a 25 pound raccoon having a midnight snack inside the sleeping bag with him still in it."

Matt threw back his head in laughter and slapped the palm of his hand on the steering wheel. "Dad gum, I forgot about Kyle and that raccoon. I swear I think those boys spent too much time around your Uncle Lariat when they were younger, given their hair brained ways and all."

"Uncle Lariat," Lindsay's face creased into a wide smile at the thought of Matt's younger, free-wheeling brother. "Is he here?"

"Yep."

"I thought he said he'd never spend another winter in Montana."

"Well between you and me, I think he didn't pull as much on the rodeo circuit this year, clowning and he's a little low on the dollar. As soon as the holidays are over though, he'll be high tailin' it back to Texas for the start of the rodeo season down there."

"I can't wait to see Uncle Lariat," she said wistfully before falling silent for several minutes.

"How about your mama?" Matt finally asked, glancing at her as he gave her hand a playful tug.

"Yeah, her too," she murmured as she avoided Matt's eyes.

Matt took a cleansing breath before he finally decided to delve into the realm of female emotional psyche. It certainly wasn't his forte, but he'd never seen stubbornness in two people more than in Patrice and Lindsay Monroe. Completely alike in almost every way, looks, mannerisms and reasoning; the undercurrent never ceased to flow between these two.

"She's been looking forward to your visit even if it isn't under the best of circumstances."

"Daddy, I think your perception is a little off."

"I don't think so Lindsay; I live with the woman day in and day out. She's worked through a lot of issues these past couple of years. I'm just asking you to take the blinders off for a bit and see what gives."

She bit her lower lip staring at nothing in particular. An internal battle waged, but deep down she knew her dad was right; she had to give it a chance. Nothing good ever came of holding a grudge.

She looked at him, forcing a faint smile to curve her lips but allowing doubt to cloud her face. "I'll try Daddy. But if it goes south, I'm going over to Kurt and Judy's to stay while I'm here."

"Fair enough; all I ask is that you give it half a chance….for Laurel."

_Damn it, why did he have to add that last past in there_?

----------------------------------------------

Danny's fist hovered inches from the door, torn between the desire to provide support and the trepidation at who would most likely be on the other side. He pushed against it before he had another moment to think about it.

Two surprised faces greeted him, the first he acknowledged with a curt nod while the other he gave his complete attention.

Joe, never taking his eyes from Danny, clipped out quietly.

"Cara, give us a moment will you? I need to talk to Danny."

"Joe, remember what the doctor said." Caitlin placed a kiss on his cheek and turned trying to catch Danny's eyes as she walked by him. He refused to meet her eyes and sidestepped to avoid any contact with her.

After the closing click of the door, Danny approached Joe's bedside.

"Dad, are they treating you okay in here? I bet the food sucks but I can sneak you in some…"

The expression on Joe's face was like a dark cloud rising and he clutched a hand to his side as he shifted in the bed.

"Danny, be quiet. I want to say something to you and I only want to say it once, lo capite. mio figlio?"

Danny's chest tightened at those last words and his hands fisted around the bed rail realizing that he couldn't in good conscious argue with Joe.

"You had no right to speak to your ma the way you did yesterday. That woman has been to hell and back for every person in this family, particularly you, Danny."

"But…D-," he choked on the word, frustration and anger mounting. "I have every right. She fuckin' screwed up my life…your life!"

"Screwed up your life?" Joe pointed an accusing finger at Danny. "Danny, she gave you life and as I recall she kept you alive more than once, mio figlio."

"That still doesn't excuse what she did."

Joe struggled to find the rights words as he eyed Danny's whitened knuckles clutching the bed rails, recalling his own anger and pain at dealing with this very issue years ago.

"Just remember there are always three sides to every story… his, hers and the truth somewhere in between."

"So what the hell is your side of it? Huh? Why was she with Uncle Sal and not you? Where were you all those years when I was growing up? Huh Dad? Or maybe I should call you Joe?"

Joe flinched but he did not rise to the bait, holding his calm mask in place as Danny continued his tirade.

"You know it all makes sense now! Why you weren't there all those years… all those questions you brushed off, all those baseball games you missed, your indifference when it fell through for me… why you left it all to Uncle Sal. It's because you never thought of me as your son… isn't it?

"Danny…"

Joe's placid tone incensed Danny further. "ISN'T IT?…. JOE!"

"Mio figlio…" Joe began again, but Danny cut him off.

"Mio figlio, my ass!" Danny snorted in utter disgust, "I'm outta here."

"NO! Danny wait, wait!" Joe put up a hand to halt Danny as he clutched his side with the other, a grimace of pain crossing his face.

"Whether or not I thought of you as my son," he gritted through his pain, "that wasn't the issue."

Danny folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels.

"I'm listening."

"Do you remember the delivery you made for the wise guy?"

Danny licked his lips and nodded for him to continue.

"Your ma and I fought that night like we've never fought before. She…. She… insisted she was not going to lose you to the streets like she was losing Louie. She said she would do whatever it took and if I didn't support her, she would leave me."

"So you're putting this on Ma. You fuckin' bastard after all she's been through with you, sticking by you…"

"Danny, just shut the hell up and listen will you?"

"The mistake was mine, mio figlio. I should have met her halfway. I should have cut the work hours, I should have been home more, I should have spent the time with you and Louie but I didn't…. I didn't and I've never regretted that more than in this past year. So I'm asking you… no, I'm begging you to see your way clear to make up with her. You're breaking her heart, mio figlio. You're the only son she has left."

The disillusionment weighted his head to his chest, as he jammed his hands into his pockets. "I can't just go back to the way it was… I don't feel the same way."

"Danny I know that you're frustrated and angry. Trust me mio figlio, I understand that, but remember she's your ma. Don't throw that away over some little mistake that was made years ago before you were even born."

Danny jerked his head up in crushing insight, as his eyes blazed in fury.

_Before I was even born… it was because of that mistake that I **was** born! _

--------------------------------------

"Patrice! Lindsay's here!" Matt shouted as he and Lindsay crossed the threshold of the old white farmhouse that had been in Patrice Chartier Monroe's family for 5 generations.

"Daddy, do you have to shout it to the world?"

Lindsay ruefully tugged at her ear. Either her dad was really excited or just getting hard of hearing.

Patrice emerged from somewhere within the depths of the house, wearing an old flannel shirt and faded, ratty blue jeans. Her soft, brown eyes glowed with subdued welcome as she embraced Lindsay.

"Lindsay, I'm so glad you're home," she murmured against her daughter's ear. Lindsay's arms tightened of their own accord around the soft, comforting frame, genuinely surprised by the warmth of her mom's greeting.

Patrice released her, allowing a tentative smile to grace her face as she pulled Lindsay by the hand toward the kitchen.

"C'mon, you need something to eat. I felt those bones through your clothes. That may be acceptable for a winter in New York but there isn't enough meat on them to get you through one week of winter here."

Lindsay sat down at the family breakfast table watching her mom bustle around the kitchen and suddenly felt overwhelmed with fatigue. She began to wonder how she was going to weather this week. It had been tough enough fathoming it under normal circumstances but now with things coming totally unraveled just before she had left New York it seemed insurmountable. She closed her eyes and shook her head trying to focus. She couldn't afford to have her head in two different places at a time like this.

"Here you go, just the way you like it," Patrice quietly acknowledged as she sat the sandwich before Lindsay. "Are you okay?"

Lindsay blinked her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her temples, "I'm fine. I'm just tired. I'll take coffee if you have it."

As she began massaging her temples she reminded herself that she would be meeting with Prosecutor Rawlings in the morning to go over her testimony. She knew it was to be a grueling trial with the evidence of seven victims to cover, and the thought of seeing that _bastard…_ She immediately cringed when that word came to her mind.

Patrice placed the coffee on the table, sat down beside her daughter and laid a hand on top of Lindsay's, noting the chill and trembling in her daughter's fingers.

"Lindsay, I know this is hard for you and things between us haven't been…"

Lindsay threw a stricken look towards her mom as her emotions began to churn at the thought of what was coming. Just a few days ago she might have welcomed the chance to clear the air, but now…

"Mom, I don't think I can do this right now."

Patrice held up her hand, closing her eyes in concentration. "I need to say this Lindsay. Please… just let me say it." Her chin began to quiver as she opened eyes full of pain and regret.

Not another grieving mother; Lindsay inwardly winced. She pushed aside the plate containing the sandwich as queasiness gained the upper hand, and reached instead for the cup of coffee, curling her fingers around its bolstering warmth.

"Lindsay?"

She looked into her mom's pleading eyes.

"Okay, Mom."

Patrice let out a grateful sigh and began, choosing her words carefully. "It was devastating for me losing Laurel. She was the last of my children, my baby. I nursed her the longest, wanted to keep her home when it was time for her to go to kindergarten and felt the empty nest pangs when she left to marry Chad."

Patrice paused, pressing fingertips to eyelids to hold back the tears.

"Lindsay," Patrice said her heart in her words as she opened her eyes once more. "I took it out on you. I'm sorry. One of the worst things a mother can do to her child is to place blame where blame is not due, and I'm not proud of that."

"I know, Mom. It's okay."

Lindsay wrapped her arms around her mom. Although she felt relieved, she was very wary. The trial hadn't even started yet and once the ugly details of Laurel's murder were relived blow by blow she wondered if her mom could maintain her forgiving stance.

As her mom sobbed on her shoulder, she felt as if her emotions were walking a tightrope without a net. Could she be here for everyone? Could she do what they all were depending on her to do? If she fell, who would catch her? The one person who was strong enough was almost 3000 miles away struggling with his own grief and pain.


	61. Unconditional Love

**A/N:** Thanks to **MariaLisa** for encouraging, discussing, and beta'ing!

Thanks to all those reading but not reviewing. I know you are out there and I appreciate it!

**Rated M:** for language.

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Unconditional Love **

**Etch your burdens upon my heart **

**And from your shoulders they will depart **

**-Sally Jetson **

"Mac, you wanted to see me?" Danny casually leaned against the office doorframe feeling anything but casual.

Mac swiveled his chair away from the window breaking his contemplative stare from the teeming city far below.

Mac thumbed his chin at Danny. "Close the door on your way in."

_Shit this can't be good. _

Danny leaned back in the chair across from Mac's desk and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs a couple of times to expel the nervous energy building inside him.

Mac steepled his fingers, eyeing the fidgety man before him.

"I heard about the takedown with Nicky Roselli and that your father was shot."

Danny registered relief with an expelled breath. "Yeah, it was a hell of a twenty-four hours but we all came out okay. I went by to see Dad this morning in the hospital and he's coming along."

"I'm relieved to hear that you father is going to be okay. And Lindsay… is she okay? Did she make her flight to Montana?"

"Yeah Mac, she's fine… you know she's a country girl, tough, doesn't miss a beat… and now she's off taking care of business." _Tough? Messer, you know that she bleeds red just like the rest of us… you proved that before she left, didn't ya?_

Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the little white lie. He had no idea where Lindsay was at the moment or what her state of mind was but he could hazard a good guess after their less than amicable parting.

"Good. That's reassuring to me. I know it has been a rough couple of weeks for you."

"You got that right."

"If you need some more time off just let me know, I'll shift some people around…"

"Nah Mac, I'm good, really…I need to work…keep busy."

"I'll take you at your word but if it starts getting to you I need to know… no questions asked…understand?" Mac watched the expressive face of the younger man closely, knowing exactly how it felt to need to fill one's time to keep the sadness and loneliness at bay.

"Is that it?" Danny queried, anxious to be out from under the perceptive scrutiny of his boss.

"Yeah, that's it…"

Danny was up and had his hand on the doorknob when Mac spoke again.

"Tell Lindsay we're all thinking about her when you speak to her."

_Damn!_

Danny turned, giving Mac a sheepish look, "Uh, can you give me the number for her parents again? I have it in my cell but that hasn't been recovered yet and…"

"Sure."

Mac wrote the number on a slip of paper and handed it across the desk to him.

"Thanks, Mac," he said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket.

_Messer you are so delusional… she doesn't want to speak to you. _

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Patrice stared out the kitchen window, eyes locked on the slim figure wrapped in an oversized coat, head bent down, buffeted by the wind, making her way across the yard towards the barn. _She always was the plucky one._ Matt joined her, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"How did it go?"

"Very well…" Patrice looked at Matt, the pieces of the puzzle shifting around on her face. "In fact, too well." she replied distractedly, as the pieces began to shift faster.

"What do you mean?"

"I just didn't get the reaction from her that I was expecting. It was as if her mind was somewhere else."

"I'm sure she's just worried about the trial and having to go through it all again…" Matt soothed, "as we all are," he added when she pegged him with a look.

"No," Patrice shook her head, trying to grasp the piece that would put it all into place. "It's something else… something must have happened in New York before she left… things aren't right, I can sense it."

They both stared out of the window in contemplative silence as Lindsay disappeared into the barn.

--------------------------------------

With his long and incredibly tedious shift completed, he sat in his darkened apartment nursing a now-warm beer. His finger hovered over the numbers of his newly acquired cell phone as if it was the red button and he was the president in a moment of national crises. He wasn't sure if he was ready to do this… ready to speak to her… face his frustration, and his anger. What if she turned him away? He wouldn't blame her after the way he had treated her, the things he had said to her. But she had helped him before… and he sure as hell needed her help again.

-----------------------------------

The horses nickered a soft greeting as she entered the barn, the smell of hay, liniment and manure pulling her back in time.

"Uncle Lariat?" she called out, as she heard a horse stamp and snort in agitation and a calming, "Easy boy," answer in return.

"Back here, Lindsay, in Dashiell's stall," a low, gravelly voice called out to her.

She approached and leaned over the stall, watching a spry man with a rope-thick salt and pepper braid trailing down his back squat beside the buckskin stallion as he ran an exploratory hand along the fetlock.

"Your daddy said that Dashiell was favoring this leg. It wouldn't do if he went lame on us now with the buyers coming down from Helena tomorrow to check him out."

"He sure is a beaut, Uncle Lariat."

"Ain't he though," Uncle Lariat agreed as he straightened, eyeing Lindsay speculatively.

"You look a little worse for wear there, Lindsay. What, New York not treating you right?"

"I wouldn't say it was New York itself that wasn't treating me right."

"Oh, them kind of troubles," Uncle Lariat commiserated as he bolted the stall door. "Set a spell?" He gestured to the hay bales stacked against the wall.

Pulling a blade of hay from the bale, he chewed it thoughtfully as they sat down on the bales, backs against the wall, knees drawn to chests.

After a few moments of companionable silence Uncle Lariat began to drawl out his customary, straightforward wisdom. "Well the way I see it you got two ways of dealing with trouble of that nature."

Lindsay nodded expectantly.

"You can head straight for the trouble and deal with it head on." Uncle Lariat squinted an eye along his outstretched arm as if he were sighting down a shotgun barrel.

"Already tried that approach." Lindsay muttered, swiftly.

"How'd it go?"

"Out the window."

Uncle Lariat grunted either in understanding complicity or shared experience and fell silent.

Minutes passed; Lindsay waited patiently knowing that Uncle Lariat could not be rushed. Just as she was losing the feeling in her fingers and toes, he spoke again.

"Well then I guess you have to take the other route." Again, he grew silent, now working the hay blade between his back teeth as a cow rolls her cud.

Lindsay, not used to just 'setting', particularly after being in New York for two years, cleared her throat suggestively.

He took the blade out of his mouth obviously gearing up for something important as Lindsay looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

"You head in the opposite direction," he gestured over his shoulder, "gain some perspective and wait it out."

"Uncle Lariat," she sighed at his earthy advice, "that's just not the easiest thing to do."

"Well, the way I see it you're already halfway there… after all Montana is a far cry from New York."

---------------------------------------

She sat on the edge of the couch twisting her hands in her lap head bent forward, a burnished curtain of hair hiding her face.

His hand clenched and unclenched several times as he watched her, the anger, the hurt, the disappointment coursing through his veins like poison.

Then _her_ words came back to him…. _You don't know what love is._

Maybe not he sighed, as he took a step towards her, but it was the only chance he had.

She must have sensed his presence because she lifted her head when he was still a few feet away, even though he had approached silently.

Her eyes were glittering with tears.

_Shit! Why do women have to cry? _

He sat on the coffee table across from her, his knees touching hers, his arms resting on his thighs as his head dejectedly hung between his hunched shoulders.

"Ma, things are so fucked up and I don't know how to fix them."

"We talk about them… that's how we fix them."

"I don't know Ma, I am so fuckin' angry, at you, Dad, Uncle Sal."

"I know, but I'm not angry at you. I understand your reaction, your feelings. We all say and do things in the heat of the moment."

His head raised, eyes displaying the silent plea as his voice spoke it. "How did it happen, Ma?"

"Danny, that isn't what's important." Caitlin sighed softly laying a hand along his cheek.

"It is to me Ma! If it hadn't happened I wouldn't be here today. That makes it fuckin' important in my mind." His terse assertion goaded her towards an explanation.

She wrapped her arms around herself as if to protect herself from the memories… or the emotion. "I was angry at him…like you, I was just- so- angry."

"What'd he do, Ma? Did he cheat on ya? Did he hit ya?"

She shook her head vehemently as she explained, "Louie's third birthday party. I had planned it for weeks and Joe knew that. He promised me he'd be there. Everyone in the family was coming over to the house. At the last minute he got an invitation from a potential client for a weekend in Atlantic City."

"And he went." Danny anticipated dryly.

"Aye, he said the best deals were made at the craps table when the client was on a roll."

She sighed and her hands dropped to her lap, agitatedly twisting them again as she continued.

"When the party was over, Louie went home with your nona to spend the night. That was her birthday present to him. He was so excited. And Salvatore stayed to help me clean up. He knew I was angry. He was there for me."

She focused apologetic eyes on Danny. "It was just something that should have never happened."

Danny quickly did the math on his Cousin Michael's age.

"Where was Aunt Teresa?"

"At home; she'd had a bad cold and didn't want to pass it on to the kids."

"Was it a mistake, Ma?"

She flanked his face with her hands. She knew what the real question was; she could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

"You were not a mistake, Danny. I wanted you the second I found out about you. It makes no difference to a mother's heart who is the father of her child."

"What about Dad?"

"I told him when I found out I was pregnant, to give him the opportunity to leave if he wanted to, but he didn't, he stayed."

Danny's hands fisted on his knees. "Ma, it was just so fuckin' painful all those years, growing up feeling ignored, unloved and unwanted by him."

"Oh Danny that wasn't because of who fathered you; it was because of who Joe is; the consummate business man, always after the better deal, following the born-in drive to succeed. He was that way with Louie as well; it is just who he is. That's why I put you in baseball with Salvatore. That was the deal I made with Joe that night that you got into trouble over the wise guy delivery. If Joe wasn't going to cut back the hours, be home more, spend more time with you and Louie, I would put you in some activity to keep you off the streets and I trusted Salvatore. I knew he would be good for you. I saw how he was with Michael."

Danny heard the pain and wistfulness in Caitlin's voice. He shifted over to the couch next to her and slid an arm around her shoulders pulling her into the crook of his shoulder.

"Ma, I'm sorry I said those things to you. I swear to God I never meant any of them."

"I know, Danny."

----------------------------------

The door was open as they approached the room. He could hear a voice that he hadn't expected to hear and immediately the agitation rose in him.

"Danny, I didn't know he was going to be here, are you going to be okay?" Caitlin squeezed his arm, halting him outside the door.

"I don't know Ma; I guess there's only one way to find out."

Both Joe and Uncle Sal caught the tense look on Danny's face as he entered the room.

Danny took a sweeping survey of the expressions on the faces in the room, expectation, trepidation, anticipation. Finally he took a deep breath, letting the words tumble out.

"Give me a fuckin' break, will ya?! I'm really trying here, but goddamn it, you guys have had years to absorb this, I've had what, 36 hours?"

There was a pregnant pause as looks were exchanged like a scandalous bit of gossip making the rounds of the neighborhood.

"Danny does have a point," Uncle Sal spoke for the first time since Danny had entered the room.

"Thank you, Uncle- Sal-," Danny exclaimed holding out his arms theatrically. "Finally someone gets me!"

"Salvatore always did get you, Danny." Caitlin remarked, trying to keep the smile out of her voice.

Danny stared at Caitlin. Not only was there a small smile playing around her lips but her eyes were dancing and daring him… just daring him. The room grew eerily silent, the men watching and wondering if this was another calm before the storm or if the wind had finally been taken out of his sails. After a few more tense moments Danny bent his head, shaking it back and forth as he put his hands on his hips, just a hint of astonished laughter creeping into his voice.

"Jesus Christ, this family is so fuckin' screwed up."

"Danny does have yet- another- point," Joe roguishly agreed.

Uncle Sal walked over and companionably slapped Joe on the back. "I guess it's a good thing that we sent him to college, eh? He seems to be the smart one in the family don't you think?"

"All right, all right," Danny sighed in acquiescence shaking a finger at them, "but don't think I'll forget this any time soon. I want takes in both of your estates, lo capite. Not that they're worth anything," Danny muttered as an aside.

Caitlin wrapped her arms around Danny kissing him on the cheek, her eyes misty.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry 'bout it, Ma." He threw a look beyond her shoulder to Joe and Uncle Sal. "Actually I don't really care which of those bastards is my father as long as you're my ma."

Caitlin laughed as she clenched Danny's chin playfully.

"By the way, did Lindsay get off to Montana okay?"

Caitlin caught the guilty look that passed over his face. "Um… about that. Ma, can I talk to you?" Danny gestured toward the hall with his head.

"Sure Danny," The worry lines creased her forehead as she followed him from the room.

-------------------------------------

"Lindsay?" Patrice called to her as she shrugged out of the coat, "did you have a good visit with Lawrence?"

Lindsay smiled at Patrice's insistence on using Uncle Lariat's given name.

"Mom, why can't you just call him Lariat like everyone else?" she teased gently, finally feeling some sense of peace and control after her conversations with Uncle Lariat and her mom.

"Because maybe if somebody called him by a proper name he'd act more grown up."

"That's just his way Mom, and part of his charm."

"Well charming doesn't pay the bills, Lindsay, unless you're a gigolo," declared Patrice.

"Mom!"

Patrice shrugged her shoulders and looked at Lindsay in playful innocence as she closed the door of the dishwasher and started it. She grabbed a slip of paper off the counter, carefully gauging Lindsay's reaction as she held it out to her.

"Here; Danny called from New York and left his cell number for you."

Lindsay put a hand on the counter as her breath left her in a rush. _I really do need to eat something._

When Lindsay stared at the paper but made no move to take it, Patrice decided to force the issue, "I could toss it if you don't want to speak to him."

Lindsay shook her head and hurriedly reached for the paper, "No Mom, I'll take it. Did he say anything… else? I mean… did he leave a message?"

"No, he didn't."

Patrice had never met the young detective her daughter had been seeing, and had only spoken with him on the phone 2 or 3 times in passing, but she decided it was time to stir pot to see what would rise to the top.

"Lindsay, if things aren't working out for you in New York or with Danny, you are always welcome to come back here. I miss having you around."

"Why would I want to do that?" Lindsay's mouth gapped in surprise.

"Lindsay is that such an awful prospect?" A small twinge of hurt crossed Patrice's face. She couldn't tell if Lindsay's reaction was due to the thought of living in Bozeman again and being around her, or if it was from the surprise of the call from Danny.

"No… I mean…" _What do I mean?_ "My career is in New York now…" _Danny is in New York_. "and I love the city…" _I love him._

_-----------------------------_

**A/N: **Believe it or not, the story is wrapping up! I'm writing ahead and there is about 5 to 6 chapters left to post. Hang in there guys!! SJ


	62. Let Me Be The One

**A/N:** We're getting close the the end and I'm beginning to feel a little bereft!

Thanks to all those reading but not reviewing. I know you are out there and I appreciate it! Special thanks to those who have been with this story since the beginning.

Thanks to **MariaLisa** for encouraging, discussing, and beta'ing!

**Rated M:** for language.

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

**Let Me Be The One **

_**Let me be the one **_

_**To bear the burden **_

_**Hoisted upon your shoulders **_

_**Through no fault of your own. **_

_**-Sally Jetson **_

How did things get so messed up? Sitting on the edge of the bed she surveyed the room that used to be hers. Of course now it was just a nondescript guest room, and that is how she felt in it, like a nondescript guest. This was no longer her home. Bozeman was no longer her home. She knew where her home was, who she belonged with. The question was did he feel the same way? After their parting words she wasn't so sure.

_"What are you doing?" she snapped at him as he rummaged through her closet. _

_"Damn it Lindsay, I'm looking for some clothes since you so graciously threw mine out the window." _

_He emerged from the closet in a dirty pair of jeans, pulling a shirt over his head as he grabbed his shoes from beside the bed, stopping at the front door to put them on; trying to keep his balance. _

_"Danny, don't leave like this. We can work it out." Taking a deep breath she plunged on hoping to hit the nerve that would reel in his reckless rampage, "I love you and I know you love me." _

_"Love?" his tone embittered as he straightened and grabbed the keys off the table, stuffing them into his pocket. "Lindsay the only thing that loving a woman has ever brought me is pain and heartache… Ma… Aiden…," he stopped before he said 'you' but she knew he was thinking it. _

_And it stung, like a slap across the face. She knew he was angry, disappointed, hurt, but did he have to take it out on her? Her face burned and her heart twisted. _

_"Danny you don't even know what love is!" _

_"Well you know what Lindsay; I don't give a flying fuck because I am done with the whole fuckin' love thing." He sliced his arms through the air in a brusque crisscrossing motion. _

_Their glares locked. She felt the tears sting the back of her eyelids but she would not let him see her cry, not after he had said those hateful things to her, no matter how angry he was; they hurt! She turned around with a huff to cover her pain. She heard his angry and irritated voice from behind her. _

_"Now I'm gonna go retrieve my wallet from the street before someone makes off with it." _

_He slammed the door so hard behind him that the pictures rattled against the wall. _

And he hadn't returned.

Why had he called and left his number but not a message?

_--------------------------------------- _

He did a double take when he noticed the blinking red light on the cell phone as he went to the fridge to grab a cold beer. Funny; he hadn't heard it ring.

_New cell phones are such a pain in the ass. _

He fiddled with it until he got the ringer turned on, then navigated to voice mail praying that it wasn't Mac calling him to a crime scene. He couldn't process a scene right now if his life depended on it. He couldn't even recall one play of the Knicks' game that he'd been watching for the last hour.

_"Danny, I'm returning your call." _

Her crisp, business-like tone took him by surprise as it floated over the line.

"_I picked up a cheapie cell phone in Bozeman so you should be able to reach me at this number, just in case anyone on the team needs me." _

His hope deflated as her voice had continued in the crisp, business-like manner. He was about to end the message when he heard a small quiver.

_"… I miss you. Call me?" _

He immediately pressed the callback button.

_Damn! Maybe I have a chance after all. Don't screw it up this time, Messer! _

_--------------------------------------- _

The shrill of her new cell phone startled her. Even though it was late, she hadn't been sleeping; the thoughts in her mind had been too rowdy.

She quickly flipped open the phone when she saw it was a New York area code, but hesitated before answering.

_" Montana?"_

A wave of homesickness washed over her as she heard his heavy accent.

"Danny, what are you doing up so late?"

_"Probably the same reason why you're still awake."_

"How do you know I was awake?" she asked, a little petulantly, when she heard the self-assurance in his voice.

She could hear his smirk from the other end of the line as he answered.

_"Because Montana I know what you sound like when you're awake, I know what you sound like when you sigh in your sleep, I know what you sound like when you're processing evidence, and I know what you sound like when I touch you the middle of the night..." _

Boy, he had some nerve she thought as she pushed the hair off the back of her neck, going right into it when he had said such awful things to her the last time she had seen him.

_"Any other questions, Montana?"_

Cocky, wise ass!

"Yeah, why are you calling?"

It came out stronger than she intended and she could tell she had caught him by surprise because he paused before clipping out.

_"Mac asked about you and I want to make sure that I have something to tell him when he asks me again tomorrow." _

Damn it Lindsay, why can't you let it go? Why do all the 'I'm sorry ducks' have to be in a row before you can give a little. Before she could back pedal he continued, his voice increasing in barely controlled ire.

_"Lindsay, it's been a long day and I have an early shift tomorrow, I'll give Mac your new cell number. Good night." _

What? He had hung up on her! Lindsay stared at her cell phone as the light on the displayed blacked out and the hope in her heart faded. Would they ever be able to find middle ground?

--------------------------------------

_That went swimmingly, Messer! Did you have to start with the phone sex right off the bat? You're such a guy! Three strikes and you're out. What strike is this? 69? Definitely not looking good._

-------------------------------------

When the digits on the clock glowed 4:00 am he gave up the quest for sleep and ruthlessly placed himself under a cold shower, hoping to block out the thoughts leading his emotions on a wild goose chase. He had failed miserably with the most important person in his life; Lindsay. He leaned his forehead against the tiled wall of the shower and turned the knob for the hot water. As the shower turned steamy he allowed his thoughts to settle on her; warm, brown eyes, engaging smile, sensuous curves, the way her breast filled his hand perfectly; the way her hands moved over his body, able to bring him to the edge and then send him over with that hard sigh.

Damn; he needed her, loved her, he didn't want to spend one more day without her in his life.

----------------------------------------

The bench was uncompromisingly hard; she kept getting up to pace the length of the hall every ten minutes or so to keep her brain from slipping into a semi-comatose state. Sleep had been evasive after the late night phone call from Danny. _Boy; that had been a dismal failure!_

She looked up at the clock. _Damn, where was that man?_ She'd known him to be more than a few minutes late before, but this was just ridiculous….noon! His administrative assistant had assured her that she was on his calendar for 11:00. Her stomach growled in protest at the disappearing act pulled by the toast and coffee that she'd half-heartedly swallowed that morning at her mom's gentle insistence.

"Linsday"

Her head jerked up at the familiar voice, as Prosecutor Rawlings approached.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting… let's step into my office. I have some news I think you are going to find very interesting."

Moments later Lindsay sat on the edge of her seat, words barely absorbed but pricking her conscience nonetheless; the self-congratulatory smile, on the prosecutor's face, sickening her.

"So do you want to relay the news to your folks or should I?"

"Me?… I mean… I'll tell them."

----------------------------------------------

"She started driving…west….then north… up into the mountains… not really knowing where she was going… or why….until she was there…. and then she knew.

--------------------------------------------

"Hey buddy, how do I get to the Monroe Ranch?"

A blank stare from the thinly disguised hayseed in a Rent-A-Car uniform was the only response he received.

_Great, I thought everyone in a small town knew everyone else. _

-------------------------------------------

"Mrs. Monroe?"

If she had sounded skeptical on the phone when he had called for directions she looked downright suspicious now. He couldn't blame her, particularly with the incredulous look plastered across his face, but he couldn't help it; the déjà vu was messing with his mind. She was the spitting image of Lindsay or rather Lindsay of her…just a 25 year age difference.

_Damn; if this was how Lindsay was gonna age I definitely picked the right girl. _

"Danny Messer, from NYPD; I work with your daughter, Lindsay," he blurted out once he'd recovered his tongue.

"Yes, I know. Please, come in."

He followed her through the house to the kitchen, noting the plethora of photographs of Monroe kids at various ages adorning the wall. He didn't have time to more than glance at them, but he made a note to return later and pick out the ones of Lindsay as a child. Then again, he may not be here long enough to do that.

_Focus Messer, you can't screw this up._

"Coffee?"

"Sure, that'd be great."

He watched her deft movements as she prepared the coffee. _Just like Linds in the lab._

"Here you go. Cream or sugar?" She quirked her eyebrows questioningly at him, waiting on his answer before sitting at the table with him. _Even the eyebrows_.

"No… ma'am, black is fine." He didn't know why he'd thrown that ma'am in there. He'd never done that before… for anyone.

"You can drop the ma'am, we don't sit on ceremony here." _Her no nonsense tone even sounded like Lindsay…on the rooftop… 'Make tracks, Cowboy'. _

He took a bracing swig of coffee before he plunged on. "Guess you're wondering why I'm here?" He pushed his glasses back up on his nose out of nervous habit.

"I have pretty good idea." She smiled at him, _that 'Maybe you didn't know him as well as you as you thought' smile from Cozy's. Shit, this was becoming unnerving. _

Before he could explain himself further, stomping at the back door brought three tall and lanky men into the kitchen.

"Patrice, ya got any fresh coffee, we're froze clean through. Even with Lariat and Kurt helping me it took much longer than I suspected to get that head of cattle into the south pasture."

"Matt, this is…"

Danny stood quickly holding out his hand to the man he assumed was Lindsay's father, "Danny Messer, NYPD; I work with Lindsay."

Matt engulfed Danny's hand with his own, "I reckoned as much."

_What's that suppose to mean? Is there a blatant message written on my forehead that I don't know about?_

"My brother, Lariat, and this here is my oldest son, Kurt."

Danny shook hands with each man in turn as he they stepped forward upon introduction.

"Lindsay girl know you're comin'?"

"No… Um I hopped the first flight from New York early this morning… didn't have a chance to call her."

_Messer you're such a liar. You're just praying that if you get the element of surprise on her she won't think to turn you away. _

"Hmmmf," Matt stuck out his bottom lip nodding. "Well, as long as you're here we might as well get acquainted."

"Everyone want coffee?" Patrice inquired.

With the scraping of chairs, the men settled at the table while the coffee was passed out. Danny scrutinized the Monroe clan as unobtrusively as possible. Weather roughened faces and calloused hands, flannel work shirts and thick jeans attested to the physical labor that these men did day in and day out. The little bit of street work he did now and again at the crime scenes couldn't hold a candle to what these men did on a daily basis. He felt like a first class wuss next to them. And the one with the long braid down his back surveyed him unnervingly with glittering dark eyes, making him feel marked in some way.

Kurt casually hooked his arm over the back of the chair as he tipped it back on two legs, eyeing Danny as an older brother would when sizing up the guy dating his sister, "So, you know Lindsay well?"

_Fuck, what a loaded question! He'd have to field this one carefully._

"Yeah, we've been working together in the CSI lab since she moved to New York."

"Seems like a mighty long way to come for someone you just work with… particularly without letting 'em know beforehand." Matt drawled, his forearms resting on the table, hands curled loosely around the cup, as he pegged Danny with a look that said way more than his words.

_Shit, did he just walk into that or what? Parents had never been his forte and he hadn't met the parents of a girl he had been dating since high school. Come to think of it she'd been a cute little brunette too with big, dark eyes… focus Messer! _

"Lindsay and I, well," he rubbed a hand nervously along the back of his neck hoping to ease some of the tension; buy some time; collect his thoughts. _Damn this is like being in an interrogation room with three Mac's and one Stella._ He dropped his hand back around the coffee cup letting out a slow deep breath, facing four sets of eyes that could easily ruin his day if not his life if he wasn't on the level with them.

"Look, Mr. Monroe, Mrs. Monroe. I care about your daughter, about Lindsay, but I was angry when she left and I said some things I shouldn't have said… things I didn't mean and…well, I'm here to talk it out with her… to try to fix it."

The pause stretched seemingly for an eon until Matt pushed back his chair, stretching out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and lacing his hands behind his head, "You realize that this might not be the best time to do that."

"Yeah, but I felt it was too important to let it go any longer." Danny felt the sweat beading on his forehead.

Matt looked over at Patrice. Unfortunately Danny couldn't get a read on her face as she returned Matt's look. But he realized in that moment that no matter who may be heading up the conversation it was going to come down to what she thought.

Apparently he'd passed some kind of test because Matt spoke again.

"Okay, fair enough, we'll see what Lindsay girl has to say when she gets in." He thumbed his chin at Lariat and Kurt. "Right now we gotta get that hay loaded up and dropped into the south pasture for those cows."

The men stood and moved toward the back door.

"Might as well make yourself useful; ever loaded hay bales?" Matt eyed Danny up and down as Danny rose, shaking his head, but ready to agree to anything they proposed as long as they let him wait around to speak to Lindsay. "You look like a strong fella, even if you're a bit on the wiry side. What's your take, Lariat?"

Uncle Lariat turned back and shrugged, "Makes no never mind to me. Always could use an extra pair of hands."

The phone rang as someone tossed Danny a coat and a pair of thick, leather work gloves.

"Lindsay, what's wrong?" Patrice's worried voice cut through the noise of boots scuffing across the floor as the men redressed for the outdoor work. "Oh my God, no." Patrice sat down heavily in a chair.

Matt walked over squatting in front of her trying to catch her eyes, "Patrice, what is it?" he mouthed.

Danny was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet barely able to keep himself from grabbing the phone from Patrice to find out for himself what was going on with Lindsay. It didn't sound good at all.

"Lindsay what are you doing there?"

"What? Where is she, Patrice?" Matt demanded, out loud this time.

"Lindsay, call me back as soon as possible." A hint of panic slipped into Patrice's worried voice.

Finally Patrice looked at Matt the tears welling up in her eyes. "Deer Lodge."

"Why the hell would she go to Deer Lodge?" Kurt clipped out.

" Montana State Prison." Danny murmured.

Everyone riveted their stares from Patrice to Danny as he repeated, "Montana State Prison. That's where Wilson Riddle was transferred to when they extradited him from New York for the trial."

"Matt, they pled the case. There's not going to be a trial." Patrice's hold on her emotions broke as Matt took her into his arms.

"I still don't understand what Lindsay's doing up in Deer Lodge?" Kurt retorted.

"Mermaid case; James Vackner." Danny supplied again.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked gravely.

"It's a case where a young woman from Montana was killed, seemingly for no reason. It really got to Lindsay and she went to question the murderer in prison to find out why he did it." Danny's hands gestured, his Staten Island accent slicing through the air in decisiveness.

"What did she find out?" Patrice raised a tear stained face from Matt's shoulder.

Danny shook his head, his face hardening. "Nothing. The bastard just blew her off."

Matt's easy drawl was laced with uncharacteristic tension. "Sounds like this guy could do a number on her head. I think I need to go up there."

"Matt, the buyers from Helena are coming to look at Dashiell. We're depending on this sale."

The indecision furrowed Matt's brow.

"I'll go," Danny threw out, eyeing Matt with challenging resolve.

Matt's face tightened.

"Son, I know you mean well but with you and Lindsay on the outs I'm suspecting that she doesn't need to deal with that stress right now."

_Time to ante up, Messer._

"Look I mean no disrespect but I know what these psychos can do to you; I know how they operate," he pressed out the last words in one breath, "and I know Lindsay."

Matt looked at Patrice questioningly. She looked at Danny and he felt his heart move into his throat as he met her worried brown eyes. They were Lindsay's eyes, so full of mistrust and doubt. Every ounce of him wanted her to trust him, let him help her, lend her the strength she needed to get through because he knew she needed to go through it even if there were no answers, even if it was only to get to the other side in one piece.

"Mrs. Monroe…you can trust me." He licked his lips nervously as he came around the table to stand on the peripheral of her personal space, poised to go further if need be.

Patrice started to shake her head.

_Damn, I'm losing here._

He stepped in closer touching her elbow gently, his voice hoarse. "Please… I love her."


	63. The Survivor Within

**A/N: Please Read! **At the end of this chapter is a strong scene dealing with the issue of Survivor's Guilt. The scene is just one of many plausible reactions one can have and is the one I have chosen for this story. Please know it is not my intent to hurt, belittle or mock anyone's experience with this issue.

Special thanks to **Imaguestage** a.k.a. **Rogue989** and **prplerayne** for their insightful discussions and guidance throughout this chapter.

Thanks to **MariaLisa** for the encouragement, support and complete honesty at all times.

** The Survivor Within **

_**Punch, kick, hit, scratch and bite but if you can't touch my heart **_

_** you can never make me bleed. – Sally Jetson **_

She stared… razor wire… gray brick… standard issued orange.

The guard waved her through. Lights blinked, buzzers sounded, doors clanked.

She hastily scrawled her name in the visitor's log and then she was in, perching on the edge of a cold, unforgiving metal chair, staring through bullet-proof, shatter-proof but not emotion-proof plexi-glass, at him.

His face was as she remembered it; twisted into a sneer, a smear of perspiration across his forehead. It was his voice as he spoke into the phone that drove the chill into her bones, causing blackness to tunnel in on her.

"I've been waiting for you, Lind-say."

She asked the obvious question, unable to stop herself, "What made you think I'd come?"

He adjusted his position so that he was closer to the glass, holding her dazed eyes with his hypnotic, gleaming ones.

"Because I know you."

"You don't know me." she spat out in disdain, recoiling; the hold momentarily broken.

"That sounds like you want proof." The insinuation was thrown down as a gauntlet.

She swallowed a pocket of dry air as he continued.

"I've been watching you… watching you ever since…"

"Ever since when…" she pushed out hurriedly.

He shifted back, fingers drumming casually on the counter. "Why don't you tell me?" Slyness echoed in his voice like a snake slithering through the grass. "C'mon Lind-say… when did you first notice me?"

Her hand fisted in her lap as her mind clicked through memory after memory but when her brain dead ended she changed the subject, "Why did you take the plea bargain? I thought you would want to have your day in court."

He ignored her question. "You didn't notice me soon enough though, Lind-say….did you? Tsk, tsk not soon enough to save your sister."

This time, when he leaned closer to the barrier beckoning her with his free hand, she responded like a puppet on a string. A bead of sweat broke free and rolled down his nose.

"But it was soon enough to save _yourself_, wasn't it?"

The scenes began to play behind her glazed eyes:_ head spinning, body aching, his sneering face closing in, hands gripping, bat swinging. _

"Until tomorrow, Lind-say."

The phone clicked and she saw the world outside herself again, the standard issued orange momentarily filling her view and then disappearing.

---------------------------------------

The glare of the sunlight blinded her as her body followed her feet while her mind struggled with the remnants of the memories. She collapsed against the hood of the car, the searing cold of the metal soothing her heated forehead, her hands squeezing into tight fists.

_Breathe Lindsay, breathe. _

"What? No, No," her voice wobbled when she felt the hands on her shoulders.

"It's me," his voice hovered in her ear; quiet, reassuring. "C'mon." He turned her gently into his chest, wrapping his arms around her, a hand stroking the back of her head, the other curling, low, on her waist, his lips pressing to her forehead.

"I'll take you home."

"No!"

She arched back, hands braced against his chest, luminous eyes wide with haunting determination.

"What?"

"I can't leave…not yet… not until tomorrow."

---------------------------------------

He hadn't asked for explanations as he had helped her into the car. He had just kept a wary eye on her drawn features as he drove. Everything was happening on the inside and he wanted to reach in and pull it to the surface so he could understand; so he could know; so he could help her; but that would have to wait until they were some place more private. He drove past the run of the mill hotels along the interstate into town, to an establishment that harkened to a bygone era.

He figured this must be what a mountain lodge should look like as he took in the great prong horned sheep's head mounted above the massive stone fireplace in the lobby. After securing a room he guided her with a deferential hand to the room, softly clicking the door closed behind him.

Only a slit of light sliced across the room from between the drawn curtains. She stopped at the edge of the bed; he paused right behind her, inhaling her scent, so giddy to be in her presence again but reluctant to touch her, hesitant to tip the balance of her emotions in the wrong direction.

And then she broke. Her arms wound fiercely around her trembling body. She began to fall but he caught her and lowered her gently to the bed, harboring her in the circle of his arms, determined to be her anchor.

He was not aware of how long she sobbed, only of the wretched pain emanating from her body in shuddering wave after shuddering wave. When she calmed to relative stillness he brushed her hair back and murmured into her ear.

"Ya, all right?"

She nodded and turned in his arms, burrowing into his body her breathing becoming deep and even in mere moments. He succumbed soon after, finally able to regain the sleep he'd lost since the last time he'd held her in his arms.

When he awoke the room was dark save a skewed square of light seeping from underneath the bathroom door. He sat up and stretched his arms above his head, twisting to work the kinks from his back. He flicked on the bedside lamp. It cast a soft glow about the rustic interior; he was distractedly wondering if the fireplace really worked when he heard the shower stop.

She emerged, moments later, dwarfed in a white terry-cloth robe that emphasized the glittering darkness of her fathomless eyes. She positioned a knee beside his thigh and straddled herself across his lap. His hands dropped to her waist; she cupped his face and bent her head to hungrily capture his lips. His breath left his body as the fire shot immediately to his groin. She released his lips only to suck in more air before relentlessly attacking them again, rousting his tongue into the fray.

Her hands freed his shirt and yanked it up and over his head, dislodging his glasses which he just managed to rescue and toss to the table as her hands scrabbled at his belt buckle, finally jerking it into releasing, her fingers nimbly unsnapping and unzipping.

"God Linds," he groaned as her hands found their mark, his hips bucking in response.

His hands, acting of their own accord, pushed the robe off her shoulders, his lips following suit. But when she increased the intensity of her stroke, his fingers dug into her shoulders; his forehead nestled into the crook of her neck unable to focus on anything but the exploits of her hands. It had only been a couple of days, but he felt like it had been years.

_Messer, you are such a guy! You should be talking to her. _

She bent her head intent on the task at hand when he wove his fingers into her dampened curls lifting her head to eye level with his.

"We need to talk," he whispered tightly.

"No!" she declared as she adjusted her position so that she was straddling him once more, and this time it was skin to skin.

"Lindsay… stop…" Never in his life had he uttered more contradictory words.

"No, I won't stop… I need this!"

She curled a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him atop her as she fell backwards. He propped himself onto a forearm, trying to put some distance between them as he looked into her burning eyes, startled at the possessed vacancy he saw there.

"Fuck me, Danny," she throated.

"What?" His brow knitted in puzzled shock. He wasn't above a little dirty talk now and again, but the rawness….this wasn't like her.

She pushed his jeans down below his hips, coiling her legs decisively around his waist.

"C'mon Danny, I want you to _fuck-_ _me_-!" Her voice took on a demanding, animalistic tone.

She thrust her hips upwards, his body betraying him as he grappled to hang on to coherent thoughts.

"Lindsay, I don't want to do it…"

"What do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He pulled up his jeans with one hand, licking his lips to give himself time to frame his words just right.

"I mean not like this… there is something going on with you. We should talk."

She scrambled out from under him to stand stiffly in front of the fireplace, swaddling the robe about her small frame.

"I don't see why we should we talk," she threw over her shoulder.

"Because you need to work through this Lindsay, you can't keep it inside, it'll make you bitter and twisted."

"Why should we talk about my problems when you _can't_ or _won't_ talk about yours?"

_Damn, I deserved that didn't I? _

He approached her, wanting like crazy to touch her but worried that it would push her back inside… at least, for the moment, she was talking…he didn't want to lose that.

"What happened today… at the prison?" he asked gently.

She ignored the question; instead she let her robe drop to the floor with a silent thud; she turned, spreading her arms along the mantle behind her, cocking a hip and propping a heel on the hearth.

_Fuck, she was sexy as hell and making this as hard as the tightness in his jeans._

"C'mon Messer; I know you know how to show a real looker of a broad a good time!"

He flinched as Roselli's words lurched into his mind.

_"C'mon, Messer. I 'member you used to hang with broads who knew how to party, real lookers too…" _

He could swear that she had chosen those particular words on purpose.

She dropped her arms, swaying her way towards him, sliding her arms around his shoulders, and reducing the space between them to nothing but air as she painfully raked her nails down his bare back.

"Ouch, Lindsay!"

She caught his bottom lip between her teeth; nipping it roughly; drawing blood.

"Lindsay," he warned through clenched teeth as he gathered her wrists in one hand, holding them to his chest.

"What; don't you like it rough?" she brazenly mocked with a careless toss of her hair.

"That's not it, Lindsay! You're trying to push my buttons and I'm not sure why but I _deserve_ to know why."

"You _deserve_? You _deserve_? Maybe _I am_ exactly what a washed-up baseball player like you deserves!"

"That's it, Lindsay!"

Still holding her wrists with one hand, he snaked his other arm around her waist, lifting her and dropping her brusquely onto the bed.

"Is that how you want it, Lindsay? Is hurting me going to make you feel better about yourself?" he ground out as his jeans hit the floor and he crawled on top of her. He grunted as he entered her without preamble.

She groaned in masochistic pleasure, wrapping her legs around him; her eyes sharp and focused as he rocked into her. He tangled his hand into her hair arching her head back as he nipped the tender flesh on her neck.

"Yes, that's how I want it," she affirmed with another deep groan.

"Is this how you think _I_ want it….how _I _deserve to be treated…or…," he lifted his head to look directly into her eyes, "is this how _you_ _think_ you deserve to be treated?"

She defiantly turned her head away but he clutched her chin and turned it back.

"Huh Lindsay? Answer me! Do you think _you deserve_ to be treated like this?"

"Shut up and fuck me, Messer!" she snarled as she curled her hands around his biceps and cruelly dug her nails into the rigid muscles.

He pushed her knees to her chest, thrusting deeper. She winced out a small, "Ouch!" through clenched teeth.

"Admit it! It hurts!"

She closed her eyes and bit her lip as she thrashed her head from side to side in response.

"Open your eyes Lindsay! Admit it, it hurts doesn't it?" He clutched her chin again, forcing her to look at him.

"No! No, it doesn't hurt! I like it this way! This is what I deserve."

She started to tremble violently but he couldn't back down… not yet… he couldn't risk her shutting down again… he had to keep pushing her to talk, to get her to admit it; aloud to him; but most of all to herself. This was the only way.

"What do you _think_ you deserve?"

"I deserve to be treated like a worthless human being!"

"Why Lindsay, why? Tell me why!"

"Because I… because I am..." A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and dropped to the pillow. His heart broke.

"Why Lindsay? Why do you think you're worthless?" he uttered the words praying that these were the ones that would finally break her because he couldn't take much more.

"Because… I…. should have died… oh God I should have died… not Laurel." A deep, shuddering cry racked her body. "He meant to kill me, not her… if… if… I hadn't insisted that she…if I had only noticed sooner…she'd still be alive."

"I should have been the one that died." The exorcising wail tore from her body as the cleansing tears broke.

He quickly pulled out of her and tenderly gathered her to his chest, cradling, soothing, sheltering.

"It's okay Lindsay, just let it out… just let it all out. That's only way through this is to let it all out."

He rode each emotion with her: anger, pain, grief and finally loss. He tried only to think of her but he couldn't close off the guilt; the guilt that he had been angry and that he had pushed her too hard. He had never wanted to hurt her only to help her. He prayed that she would forgive him for what he had done, for _how_ he had broken through to her.

Finally she quieted and he could bear it no longer. He tipped her chin with a finger yearning to make a connection.

"Lindsay," his voice hoarse, "Forgive me." He touched his forehead to hers, threading his fingers through her hair, praying that it would not be the last time.

She tenderly touched her lips to his.

"For what?" her voice soft and raspy.

"For you know… you know… forcing you."

She palmed his chest, pushing back to get a better read on his face.

"No."

"What?"

"I won't forgive you for forcing me to admit how I feel. You knew what to do. You helped me."

He dropped his hands to her shoulders gripping them tightly; almost too tightly, for she winced slightly.

"That's just it. I didn't act out of helpfulness… I acted out of anger. I was angry at you for saying those things about me… to me."

"I was angry too and I goaded you… I knew what I was doing… But I knew you wouldn't hurt me."

"But it wasn't right that I reacted… I should have had more control."

"I didn't need control, Danny. I needed someone who wasn't afraid, someone who wouldn't back down when it got ugly…"

"But how can you want to be with me now if I can lose it like that."

"Danny, when did your anger change?"

"What do you mean?"

"You weren't angry with me the entire time… what changed it for you?"

"Once I… I… was inside you and… and you moaned… in pleasure."

"And if it hadn't been pleasurable… for me, if I had said no, if I had given any indication whatsoever that it wasn't what I wanted or had changed my mind, what would you have done?"

"Lindsay, I would have stopped, I swear… I would never…," realization seeping in. "I would never force you, Lindsay; never!"

"I know that, and I trusted you Danny and I still trust you," her hand cradling his jaw, her eyes glistening on her admission, "You didn't fail me, not in the least."

"Thank God, Lindsay, because I can't lose you," the darkened blue of raw need reflecting in his eyes, "I… I… love you," the words barely slipping past the emotion lodged in his throat.

"I love you too," she murmured, burrowing into the sheltering warmth of his arms as they tightened around her.

--------------------------

**A/N: **I have somewhat resolved this on an expedited timeline to move the story along but in reality is takes years to recover from Survivor's Guilt if at all. My heart goes out to anyone who has or does struggle with this pain and grief. Sincerely, SJ


	64. The Slide Into Home

**A/N: **Y'all can breathe a sigh of relief on this chapter. Thank you for all your support on that last chapter. I know it was tough.

Thanks to **MariaLisa** for the encouragement, support and beta. hugs

**The Slide Into Home **

_**A warm summer's evening **_

_**Moth's fluttering to the light **_

_**A crack of a bat **_

_**A slide into home **_

_**What could be better than that? **_

_**- Sally Jetson **_

Perched on the edge of the bed, she gazed around the rustic interior of the room in the harsh morning light, replaying event after event of the past several hours. The pain of the night, raw, dark and raging had not vanished; instead it had transmuted into the pain of daylight, sharp, bitter and piercing. It was exposed; challenging her balance, wreaking havoc in her mind. How could she possibly handle it? Her gaze alighted on the twisted bedcovers and she was reminded and reassured; the tingle deep inside causing her skin to heat as she closed her eyes, allowing the memories to envelope her senses.

_She settled into his arms, concentrating on his even breathing fanning across the top of her head, the warmth of his hands searing her skin as one curled around her neck; the other low on her hip and his heat; his heat sealed in beneath the heavy comforter. It slowly fanned her aching need for him until she could fight it no longer. Whether it was the right time or not she needed him; wanted him; but most of all she needed him to want her. _

_At first he resisted, the previous interplay fresh in his mind, but she persuaded him with tender, stoking caresses and whispered assurances. When his hand tangled into her hair she draped a leg over his hip hitching his taut muscles closer to her cushioning curves. Their lips met, tongues tangling to reacquaint, recapture and reaffirm. She shifted underneath him, suggesting, inviting, enticing; again he hesitated. Shifting his weight to his forearms, his hands flanked her face, thumbs brushing across her cheeks. _

_"Wait, I need a sec…" _

_She was surprised at the uncertainty in his voice and doubt twinged in her heart. _

_After a steadying breath, he continued, "…to slow down or I'm going to be off like a racehorse out of the gate…and I just don't want to hurt you, Lindsay." _

_She couldn't help it as a tear trickled from the corner of her eye and thudded quietly onto the pillow beside her ear. _

_"You're not going to hurt me… I promise… I need you, Danny…I…" _

_The raw ache in her voice must have convinced him because he silenced her by joining them in one tantalizing thrust; their sighs mingling, her back arching in ecstatic fulfillment, his forehead dipping reverently between the valley of her breasts, their rhythm syncing; then building; carrying them beyond themselves, beyond the world of guilt, pain and regret to one of singular harmony and completeness. _

"Ready?"

She blinked. He stood before her blocking the harsh glare of the morning light.

She barely nodded to him as the tears gathered in her eyes. "I don't know if I can leave yet… I feel like I'm abandoning Laurel if I do."

He squatted, palming her knees.

"Lindsay, you can't abandon her…she's right there," he reassured as he tapped a finger over her heart.

She clutched his hand holding it against her heart as she squeezed her eyes closed.

"The pain… I don't know if I can do it."

"One step at a time, Montana… that's the only way anyone can do it."

She opened her eyes, looking down at his hand as she pulled it away from her heart, turning it over, cradling it, stroking the inside of his wrist.

"That's how you got through it, right?"

He didn't answer but shifted his weight onto his knees, haunching back on his heels.

"What happened, Danny?" she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss where her fingers had been stroking moments before.

"Linds, it was such a long time ago." He arched his head back looking skyward passing a hand across his face as if to wipe away the memories.

"But it's a part of you and… I want to know."

She intertwined their fingers. "I couldn't be there for you then but I'm here for you now."

An anxious appeal appeared in her eyes, hoping that he would understand that she needed to be worthy of _his _trust.

"It was so stupid really… I screwed up."

She heard the frustrated sigh clench in his chest and then release as he began.

"I was in a bar looking for Louie… typical story of my life but it was important to Ma that he come to my playoff game. Me? I could'na cared less 'cause I had it made. Scouts from the majors had been sizing me up for months."

"Is that where you ran into Nicky Roselli?"

"Yeah, I overheard a conversation between him and some of my teammates. They were wet-behind-the-ears rookies from upstate... no street smarts whatsoever so I sent 'em packing. They didn't deserve to have their chances for success ruined by a fuckin' lowlife like Nicky Roselli."

"And that's when he went after you."

"Nah, he didn't go after me..."

"I don't understand, I thought…"

"He threw out an insult he knew I wouldn't back away from. Then he headed out the back door into the alley."

"He played you?"

"Yeah, 'cause he knew I couldn't let it pass… if I had just let it pass… if I hadn't been such a fuckin' hot head."

His hand gripped hers tightly almost to the point of pain.

The compulsion to know at the expense of his pain forced the words from her lips.

"What did he say?"

He disentangled their hands and wearily sat on the bed beside her, resting his forearms on his thighs, shoulders hunched, staring at some arbitrary point on the wall.

"He said…. 'Don't worry Messer, you'll eventually fuck it up. After all your ma is a whoring bitch and you're nothing but her bastard son.'"

She flinched at his muttered words as an incredulous, "Danny," escaped her lips.

The words themselves were heinous enough but in light of the recent events she knew fresh salt had been poured into old, supposedly healed, wounds.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead in pure anguish.

"And I did… I fucked it up… royally!"

"Danny, I'm -."

The anguish seeped into his words as rapped a fist on his knee, "Don't say it Lindsay! Don't say you're -"

"- sorry?" she supplied softly as she laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

"I wasted enough time feeling sorry for myself when it happened all those years ago."

She slid her hand down his thigh covering his fist with her hand, leaning into him resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I can be sorry that it happened _to_ you without feeling sorry _for_ you."

She saw the blue smolder of regret in his eyes, the tense seam of his lips as she guided his face towards hers.

"I know Lindsay, but I could be wrapping up a successful career in baseball right now, if I hadn't followed Roselli into that alley."

She dropped her eyes quickly to hide the uncertainty; watching the blue stretch of denim across his thigh blur. Wordless seconds ticked by.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, lifting her chin with a finger.

"If you were wrapping up a successful career in baseball right now, there might not be an us."

She bit her bottom lip to keep from asking… _"Would_ _you choose a career in baseball over me?"_… But it burned in her mind and hung in the air between them. It was one of those things women want to know... like, 'who was the first woman you ever made love to?'… Completely in the 'do not need to know column' but definitely in the 'have to look at the bloody accident on the highway' category.

His tongue darted across his lips in agitation as the silence stretched like a barrier between them. Finally she gave way to the barrier, dropping her hand and lifting her chin from his shoulder, dreading… dreading not that he wouldn't answer, but that he would.

To quell her own agitation she abruptly rose and crossed the room, staring out of the window at the reflected glare of the sun on the snow. She could feel the pain again, sharp, bitter and piercing, intensified by the thought that she was a choice of regret, and a second choice at that.

"Lindsay"

His hands were on her shoulders; his voice was hoarse in her ear. She hated that his breath warmed her skin.

"Can you honestly tell me that if you could bring Laurel back at the expense of us that you wouldn't consider it, even for the briefest moment?"

His hands tightened in a silent plea of understanding as his breath continued its whispered persuasion across her skin.

In opposition to her heart, her body responded with a hiccupping sniffle that was inconsequential in sound but enormous in significance.

"Touche," she whispered.

He slid his hands down her arms weaving his fingers through hers, wrapping their arms securely around her waist as he pressed a grateful kiss into the hollow of her shoulder.

His voice vibrated against her skin. "The past is gone… I'd rather concentrate on the future… on us."

"Me too," she agreed softly, as she turned in his arms, locking their hands behind his back and standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his.

He released one of her hands and cupped her chin, holding her face close to his, caressing her bottom lip with his tongue… nibbling with his teeth… sucking with his lips… until it swelled and she sighed.

"An hour, Cowboy," her voice husky with desire, her hands tugging at his shirt, "that's all we have until check out time."

"Not near enough time, Montana," he growled, blue eyes promising brown "but it's a start."

Fingertips floated along her jaw line, trailed down her neck, traced her collarbone and circled into the hollow at the base of her throat. His lips replaced his fingertips and as his tongue swirled within the hollow, the desire swirled deep within her groin.

All that her hands could do was twist into the hem of his shirt, driving his hips closer to hers.

"Tell me where you want me to start, Lindsay," his words reverberated against her throat.

She laced her fingers into his; guiding them to the swell of her breast, "Touch me..."

He grazed his thumb over the tip and she shuddered, knees weakening. He snaked his arm around her, palming her upper back to steady her. Another tantalizing brush with his thumb and her head arched back, eyelids fluttering closed.

His hand had already moved to the buttons of her blouse, anticipating, as she murmured, "On my skin." And she knew that that would be the last mind-engaged utterance she would make until he tipped her over the brink.

She laced her fingers behind his head, urging his mouth downward. Reading her cues he lapped and blew across her skin in the wake of his fingertips as they unbuttoned her blouse, thrilling when the last button freed and he could push aside the fabric to reveal the lace-clad curves whose tips fleshed dusky rose against the flimsy fabric. He hooked a finger around the shoulder strap, ushering it low on her arm. The sudden arching of her back and her deep inhale thrust her breasts up in wanton offering and his mouth captured one taut tip in succulent abandonment. When her fingers dug into the back of his neck, he slicked his tongue across the dip and crested the other, teasing it to match the rosy, glistening puckering of its twin.

He rained tender kisses up to her ear.

"Where next, Lindsay?" His own breathing raspy with desire.

She drew his hand in between them, pushing it deep between her legs.

"Here?" He stroked a lazy finger along her still-clothed crotch, "is this how you want it?"

A moan vibrated deep in her throat but she shook her head.

"How then… how do you want it?"

She struggled to put space between them but he held her close.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Inside," she whispered.

He deftly unbuttoned and unzipped, sliding his hand low, fingering her, tantalizing her, waiting for her….

She gripped his wrist, pushing it. He splayed two fingers, spreading her.

Her head dropped into his shoulder as her hand gripped the back of his neck. The tension began to mount….and he wasn't even inside her….but he knew how to caress her…how to bring her from moistened to drenched in mere moments.

But it wasn't enough for her.

"Inside."

"Show me, Linds."

Her hand shadowed his, pressing his fingers inside her, feeling herself stretch to accommodate, then clench in retraction… enveloping his fingers.

"Damn, you're so wet and hot and…. tight."

He growled the last word and she bit her bottom lip against the half smile of satisfaction as she looked into his eyes and thrust against his hand.

His sucked his lips against his teeth in concentration as he held her eyes.

He pulled his fingers out, circling around the entrance; her eyes narrowed.

He thrust them back in, pressing his thumb to that sensitive spot and the first shudder ran through her body.

Again he pulled out; her hips followed, not wanting to relinquish the sensation. He smiled slightly, circling...thrusting… each successive movement becoming swifter and stronger, until she felt the spasms shudder through her body, her fingers yanking at his hair, her lips suffering at the mercy of her teeth.

When the last spasm passed into a slight clench, and her body collapsed against his, he hooked his arms under her legs, swinging her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he laid her gently onto the bed.

"I'm not done with you, Cowboy," she throated, eyeing him through her lashes, arching and stretching in an alluring feline manner.

"I didn't think you were, Montana," he smirked as he yanked his shirt over his head and dropped his jeans to the floor.

Her actions mirrored his own as her clothes joined his on the floor. She reclined back onto her elbows inch by inch, her smile widening as he crawled up the bed towards her his body covering hers, her hands clenching low on his waist; his tangling into her hair.

He groaned deeply, smothering her mouth with his own. Her hands skimmed up his back, palming the back of his head; their tongues bartering for control.

He nudged a knee between her legs and she obliged by wrapping her legs around his waist. He eased into her, biting his lip at each responding clinch until she fully sheathed him… and then he stilled… his forehead resting upon hers… his breathing ragged. She kissed him… gently, softly, tenderly… along his whiskered jaw until she reached his ear, teasing.

"Are you holding out on me, Cowboy?"

"Nah Montana…. I just can't get over the feeling of being inside you…even now… it feels better than…"

"Than the crack of a bat…" She immediately bit her lip and dropped her eyes. _Lindsay, that was unforgivable._ She raised her eyes in apology.

There was a pained expression on his face so reminiscent of the pain he'd been experiencing for the past several days and she felt ashamed but he was the first to speak.

"Lindsay"

She put her fingers to his lips, "No, Danny I have to apol-"

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head, pressing her fingers to his lips in a tender kiss.

"I have to apologize for even letting you think that… that… I would choose baseball over you… I wouldn't … I swear."

"Danny, it doesn't matter, like you said, what is past is past."

The relief tentatively passed over his face, easing the lines across his forehead.

"Lindsay…"

"Shhh," she curled her fingers around his, pressing his hand to her heart, "… just make love to me… just love me…that is all I want… no apologies, no self recriminations, no regrets… just love me."

"Always Montana…always," he promised, as he began to rock her gently, allowing her moans and her sighs to guide him, pacing himself so that when she went, he would go with her, because he was inextricably bound to her… always and forever… and he wouldn't have it any other way.


	65. Mine Too

**A/N: **A huge thank you to all who have read, reviewed, commented, encouraged, and/or discussed Skylines and Wheatfields along the way. It has made may first foray into fic writing a memorable success.

Very special thanks to **MariaLisa** for her constant encouragement and her stellar beta'ing abilities. I've come so far with her tireless help. **Big Hugs!**

More thanks to **Peanut2lb, Elainhe** and **notesofwimsey **for being there when I needed that extra encouragement, clarifying discussion or a beta in a pinch. **Hugs! **

**Mine Too**

_**The page turns and here ends the lore **_

_**Of how a man stood for a woman **_

_**And won her heart and loyalty forever more. **_

_**-Sally Jetson **_

They crested the top step of the old farmhouse, hand in hand, to see Uncle Lariat reclining back in a chair, boots propped up on the porch railing and his hat pulled low over his face.

"Odd place to nap when it's below freezing," Danny murmured.

"Not if you're hiding out." Lindsay bumped a hip into Uncle Lariat's legs causing them to thunk down on the wooden porch as the chair legs thudded hard and arms and hat went akimbo.

"Damn woman! Can't a man just set?"

Lindsay's amused laughter rang out, "Uncle Lariat, it's just me, Lindsay."

"Thank the Lord, Lindsay; I thought it was your mamma… you know how she can't abide with no one just a settin'." Uncle Lariat grumbled apologetically as he straightened in the chair and righted the hat on his head.

"Uncle Lariat, you've met Danny, right?"

Lindsay curled a hand around Danny's bicep and beamed up at him. Uncle Lariat stood and held out a hand. As Danny gripped it tightly, he noticed Uncle Lariat's dark eyes still glittered at him but at least there was an ease in his stance.

"Yep, yesterday." Uncle Lariat turned his glittering eyes on Lindsay. "Y'all get things all patched up?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Good thing, 'cause your Mama's on a mission, Lindsay."

"What do you mean?"

"Lindsay!" Patrice burst through the front door to embrace Lindsay. "Are you okay? I can't believe you went up to Deer Lodge… what were you thinking?" Patrice laid her palm against Lindsay's forehead as if to check for fever… or a touch of craziness.

"Mom, I'm okay… really…Danny was there for me." Lindsay removed Patrice's hand from her forehead, squeezing it reassuringly.

Patrice clenched Danny's free hand in her own. "Thank you." Her motherly worry released; her eyes now brimmed with tears. She relinquished his hand, swiping her own beneath her eyes as Matt appeared in the doorway.

"Lindsay girl, are you okay?" His eyes were heavy with concern, hands thrust into his pockets, holding on to his emotions.

But as Lindsay hurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he finally withdrew his hands allowing himself to release the tension into the tightening of his arms around her, his voice cracking, "You gave us a real scare! What possessed you to do such a thing?"

Patrice cleared her throat and telegraphed to Matt one of those Morse code looks that only couples that have been together for eons could decipher.

"Lindsay, come in the kitchen and help me finish dinner." Patrice looped an arm through Lindsay's and cast another meaningful glance at Matt. "You boys go finish up in the barn."

Matt nodded at her and sized up Danny for the second time in as many days. "Give me a hand in the barn, son."

When Lindsay threw a questioning look over her shoulder Danny smiled wryly, "Go ahead… looks I've been picked up for barn duty." Then he turned to Matt, shrugging, "I gotta warn you, I ain't too handy in the barn."

"I suspect you'll catch on quick." Matt gestured his head in Uncle Lariat's direction. "You comin' Lariat?"

"Reckon so… better than being in the fire with Lindsay."

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The barn had an earthy, pungent smell; not unpleasant and certainly better than most of the street smells of New York. But, contrary to what he'd heard about the proverbial roll in the hay, the rectangular bales stacked in the corner of the barn looked less than comfortable for 'rolling'.

"Ever groom a horse?" Matt asked, as he picked up a couple of implements that Danny assumed were intended for the aforementioned purpose.

Uncle Lariat led a horse out of one of the stalls and positioned it between them.

"Nah, this is the closest I've been to a horse, unless you count the track."

Matt cocked an eyebrow at him.

Danny held up his hands in explanative rebuttal, "Purely from an observational standpoint of course. I don't play the ponies."

Matt nodded, swiping long strokes down the horse's back, small clouds of dust billowing behind the brush.

"This here is Cinderella. Patrice named her because she's always been partial to story book endings." Matt worked his way over the hindquarters, "Ever see a finer piece of horse flesh?"

"Umm no." Dannyh wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or not but since he wasn't sure where this was heading he figured he'd better keep his head in the game.

"I don't argue with Patrice much when she gets a notion in her head." Matt's tongue curled out of one side of his mouth in deep concentration on the grooming for a few moments, squatting to methodically work his way down the mare's legs before continuing the conversation. "You ever tangle with a woman that's dead set in her ways?"

"Only one," he commiserated as he recalled how long it took him to finally wear down Lindsay's defenses and get close to her.

"Best one in the whole lot, long, shapely legs, strong hindquarters and those eyes…intelligent, sensitive… mesmerizing."

As Matt's voice took on traveling tone, he had to wonder if Matt was referring to Patrice or the horse.

Matt straightened and hooked a hand in the mare's halter, turning her head so he could run a hand from her forelock down to her muzzle. The mare nickered softly. "She'll give you her heart and her loyalty if you treat her right. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Again he didn't have much comment on what he thought was the horse aspect of the conversation.

Matt dropped the brush into the tack box, trailing his hand along the mare's neck as he ducked underneath the tether line. Stance wide, his hands propped on his hips, he faced Danny, locking a full face gaze on him.

And suddenly Danny knew they weren't talking about the horse any longer. He mimicked Matt's stance, "Sure, sure, I know what you mean."

"I wasn't crazy about her going to New York the first time she left neither was Patrice no matter how much at odds they were with each other at the time."

He couldn't come up with an adequate response so he just bobbed his head in agreement and kept his mouth shut.

"Can't much abide with her going back this time but I'm willing to stand in her corner if I know she's got a good reason for going."

Danny swallowed hard, staying the panic that suddenly rose in his throat. He'd always thought country folk beat around the bush; he wasn't prepared for the significance of this conversation or for the importance of his response. In the end he decided to lay it out in country folk terms.

"I'm in her corner… come hell or high water."

Matt bobbed his head once and grunted softly as he held out his hand. Danny sighed inwardly, in relief, at his apparent success in this rite of passage as he returned Matt's strong grip.

"Then I reckon we best get inside."

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Immediately Danny sensed the tenseness between Lindsay and Patrice when he, Matt and Uncle Lariat entered the kitchen through the back door. At the moment, only the expressions on their faces were speaking.

Danny leaned back against the counter, behind Lindsay, determined not to interfere but lending silent support nonetheless.

When he looked over Lindsay's shoulder catching Patrice's eyes, she ducked her head, "Lindsay, we can finish this later."

Lindsay took a step back, reaching for Danny's hand. He instantly clasped it in his own, letting their hands rest on his thigh, keeping his breathing steady and even, concentrating on her determined profile.

"No Mom, anything you need to say, you can say to me now."

Her chin jutted up in determination and Patrice's responded in kind.

"Your home, your family, we're all here… in Montana."

"No, Mom, New York is my home. I have a life there, my friends are there. Danny is there."

"But Lindsay; New York? Just consider the pace of life. How can you possibly work through it all when you can't even concentrate?"

"How can I do it here when all I would have is time to think… see all the reminders, your face, her face-"

"You need support, Lindsay."

At this Danny pushed himself off the counter, resolutely straightening to his full height, standing next to Lindsay.

"I have support, Mom." Lindsay steeled her voice.

"But is it enough?"

"It is for me." This time her voice velveted the steel. "Is this about me…or is this about you?"

Patrice's head dropped and Matt stepped up behind her, settling his hands on her shaking shoulders, as she exhaled a quivering sob.

Lindsay closed the distance between them embracing Patrice, their tears and their pain beginning to mingle.

"I miss her, Lindsay."

"I know, Mom, I do too, but me being here isn't going to bring her back. We have to move on… and heal… each in our own way."

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"So is it really true?" he barely managed against her assaulting lips.

"What's that?" she throated as she trailed kisses over to his ear.

"That we're sleeping in separate rooms," he groaned as she flattened him against the wall with her body.

"Not if you're willing to take the risk…" she breathed into his ear sending a surreptitious thrill through his body.

He wove his fingers through her hair tipping her head back so he could gauge her expression.

"What's the risk?"

"Ass full of buckshot."

A grin spilt his face. "Risk is my middle name, Montana."

She laughed softly. "Here's the deal… no boy-," she quickly changed her wording when she heard his disgusted snort, "I mean… no man has ever snuck up to my room and made love to me underneath the very noses of my parents."

He rolled his eyes. "Piece of cake, Montana…. lead the way."

She widened hers innocently, "To where?"

"To your room."

"My room is over there," she gestured to her left, "but you," she continued as she tugged at his arm, peeling him away from the wall, "you have to come through the window."

"What? You gotta be kiddin' me…. through the window?"

When she placed her hands under her armpits and began flapping her elbows, he pointed a finger at her, "I ain't chicken!"

"Trellis is on the left side of the front porch. My window is just above it."

She didn't catch the expletive as he started down the stairs but a saucy grin graced her face as she hurried to her room.

She threw open the sash settling on the window seat waiting for what seemed like eons before she heard more expletives coming from the direction of the trellis. This time she caught his mutterings as she heard his thud onto the roof.

"Ouch! What I won't do for a piece of country girl ass! I must be outta my mind."

He crawled through the window none too ceremoniously and landed in a heap on the floor.

"You're not very good at this are you?" Laughter danced in her eyes as a soft giggle pushed through her lips.

He scrambled to his feet and scooped her up into his arms. Her squealed, "Whoa Daaannnnny," was all she could muster when he dropped onto the bed expertly pining her body with his own, securing her hands with only one of his, leaving the other free to roam along her body at will.

"Now, about me not being good at this," he teased as his hand slipped lower to brush along her breast.

"I don't think you've ever snuck up to a girl's bedroom before," she challenged

"Never had to… they've always invited me in through the front door…." At her incredulous look he continued in mock honesty, "I mean, I'm just that hot and they're just that eager."

"Well, I think that says more about your choice in girls, than your hotness."

"Ya doubtin' my hotness, Montana?"

"That and your choice in girls."

"Uh, uh, Montana, I wouldn't go there if I were you 'cause you're the girl who is lying beneath me now."

"That's where you're wrong," her voice dropped from playful to husky as her eyes muted into softness, "I'm the _woman_ lying beneath you."

His gazed turned serious before he spoke again; humbly and softly, "The kind of woman I thought I'd never have."

His simple declaration caught her off guard, the emotion sweeping through her as tears formed in her eyes. His thumb caught the one that escaped.

"Damn Montana," his own voice husky, "I didn't sneak up here to make you cry, I was really hoping to get lucky."

Her smile broke through the melancholy, "Keep talking like that, Cowboy and you'll be getting lucky until the cows come home."

"Careful, I may have to hold you to that."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

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The wave of emotion took her by surprise as the cloud cover swallowed the final remnants of the Gallatin Valley. She quickly brushed the back of her hand across her eyes.

He caught her hand in his, pulling it to his lips for a quick kiss before securing it in his lap, murmuring, "We'll be back."

She cushioned her head back against the seat giving him a sideways look with the beginnings of a watery smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"We?"

"Sure, the way I see it, you are miles ahead on skylines and I'm zip on wheat fields," he said as he peered through the '0' made by his thumb and forefinger.

She laughed lightly, "That's true; there are no wheat fields in the winter time. But I have to admit as beautiful as a wheat field is, the look doesn't vary like a skyline. You may get a little tired of looking at wheat fields."

He gave her a surprised look before his face settled into an indulgent cast, his finger trailing along her cheek, "Maybe so, but I'll never tire of looking at the expression on your face every time you see a wheat field."

He placed a tender kiss at the corner of her gaping mouth, "Glad to know I can still take your breath away, Montana." He gave her a satisfied look before stretching out his legs, settling his head back against the seat and closing his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some catching up to do on my sleep. Some insatiable woman kept me awake most of the night fulfilling her most erotic fantasies."

He shifted his position to accommodate her snuggling into his chest, his arms enveloping her, his chin resting atop her head, her hand palmed over his heart.

She hadn't realized her words, "You're my fantasy, Danny Messer, my fantasy come true," had been spoken aloud until his chest rumbled beneath her hand.

"Mine too, Lindsay Monroe. You're mine too."

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**A/N:** I'm not guaranteeing it but I'm planning an epilogue (later on) to bridge into my next fic but for now this is it. Thanks again for all the support! It has meant the world to me. SJ


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